


A Posse Ad Esse

by CharismaticEnticer



Category: Die Anstalt
Genre: "Ze" Pronoun Use, Acute stress disorder, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Aquaphobia, Autism, Blood, Canon Autistic Character, Catatonia, Delirium, Delusions, Depression, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dreams, Drowning, Dub makes awful romantic decisions, Electrocution, F/M, Fic Illustrated, Fire, First Dates, First Kiss, Gen, Hallucinations, Head Injury, Headcanon, Headcanon Names, Look at all these fucking tags, M/M, Major Spoilers, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Narcissism, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Non-Consensual Electroconvulsive Therapy, Other, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Limited, Past Tense, Plans, Psychological Trauma, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Scottish Character, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sensory Deprivation, Serious Funetik Aksent, Snake Complex, Superheroes, Superpowers, Symbolism, Tags and relationships and things will be added to as I go, Triggers, Work In Progress, broken pacifist, erectile dysfunctions in rattle snakes are completely common says freud
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 103,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharismaticEnticer/pseuds/CharismaticEnticer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CAN DISABILITY AND SUPERABILITY GO HAND IN HAND?</p><p>Something that should happen and something that shouldn't exchange places by chance, and nobody wakes up quite the same. Great powers and great responsibilities send five patients and a doctor on a journey through a therapeutic process no medical equipment can recapture. </p><p>A Superhero!AU. Work in progress; will likely be a work in progress for quite some time.</p><p>
  <b>Fic Illustrated (13 only, by tumblr user groccio) as of 8/11/14.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Descensus in Cuniculi Cavum

**Author's Note:**

> Looks like I owe everybody an explanation.
> 
> On April 8th 2012, I had myself a plot bunny. I'd been listening to the JLS song "[Superhero](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hdcc47lpJWQ)" on loop, having recently bought that album, and it planted certain seeds in my mind - namely, of a superpowered alternate universe for Die Anstalt. I matched up hypothetical powers to each character based on their personalities and certain lyrics, just for funsies, and thought wildly about writing a full-fledged multi-chaptered exploration of how this would come about.  
> But that was indeed wild, my fears told me. The longest story I'd ever written had been 9,000 words across eight chapters before this. There was no way I could have the capacity to pull that off.
> 
> I wrote, and put up on LJ, the equivalent of a whole novel and a half in fifteen chapters that summer.  
> Hah! 
> 
> Unfortunately, that autumn I ran into a roadblock, and the story has been kind of pitching and stalling ever since (though I am getting closer by the day to side-stepping this block). And, feeling bad that I haven't been doing anything majorly productive this month so far, I came to a decision: crosspost it to this AO3. So I'm gonna do that a chapter at a time over the next ten days to a fortnight, see what people think of it so far, then update alongside the LJ copy in future. Hey, you seem to like Die Anstalt fics on here! Maybe this will go down well. I dunno. 
> 
> (This does mean that I have lifted my previous self-restriction on works in progress being on here. But I kind of needed to do that anyway to allow room for the sequel to The Aim of All Life is Death, tee hee.)
> 
> Let's see, special thanks go out to: my girlfriend for being a pillar of support before and during the writing process for this thing; Martin Kittsteiner for creating Die Anstalt in all its awesomeness; JLS for singing and writing Superhero in the first place; and Avanquest Software Publishing Ltd for creating Write Your Own Novel which was instrumental in the fic's production (damn you for counting apostrophed words as two words though, grrr).
> 
> Die Anstalt and all properties associated with the game and plushies are copyrighted by Martin Kittsteiner. I am not making any profit off of this work, monetary or otherwise.
> 
> \----------------
> 
>  **Chapter theme** :  change  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Worlds Collide (Remastered) - Sound Of The Aviators](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RrqhZm3uZx0)  
>  _Originally published on July 17th 2012_

Most people don't give much thought as to how they will be spending the winter holidays - Christmas, Mōdraniht, Hanukkah and the like - until they have forced their way to the front of the calendar and it is too late to decide anything. When the days do come, spending them with family, or at least the people you love, is the most picked option, since despite the frustration it inevitably brings, smiles and peace of mind are not far behind.  
  
It wasn't that Dr Spieler wasn't grateful for how she was currently spending the days leading up to the celebrations. She had, after all, been given a golden opportunity to step into the well-worn shoes of one of the greats in psychoanalysis, even if only for a few months. It would have been ridiculous for her to refuse, being as fascinated by his profession as she was. And she liked to think she was doing a pretty passable job all things considered.  
  
But patients in a mental institution are no complete substitute for a family in the lonely winter weeks.  
  
The majority of them didn't even know it  _was_  winter, she guessed. Some of them had been here for so long in this building with the high-up windows that they saw time pass as periods out of bed and periods in bed rather than months and seasons. (For one, the opposite was the case - time passed in 30-second chunks. She hadn't managed to get anywhere with him yet.) But she knew the solution to that: get her colleague's authorization to add festive cheer to the place.  
Just as soon as she found a gap where he wasn't following a ball on a string around the couch in an attempt to get answers, that is.  
  
She took her chance as soon as he looked up at her and realized that, yes, she was still here. "[Doctor, what's the policy of Christmas decorations here? Forgive the topic jump, but--]"  
  
"[No, I don't think I will. Going from the thoughts of my subconscious to asylum policy is a pretty big leap, Spieler.]"  
  
 _Urk._ He was still on edge from the last dream analysis session; that wasn't a good start.  
  
"[Then don't forgive me,]" she tried again in her nicest tone, "[but my question still stands. It's literally three days until Christmas, and this place could use some sprucing up. For the patients' benefits, you know?]"  
  
"[Kindermann keeps a Christmas tree in the broom cupboard.]" Dr Wood sounded less terse in his reply, but only just. "[You and Nadel can get it out and set it up when you've finished with this session. And with that, we return to the core of the issue:  **what did the dream mean**?]"  
  
That had answered her question, at least, so she could return to the subject at hand with less distractions. Again. "[Okay. We already know that the ocean is indicative of your state of mind. You're sailing across it, so that could mean you need to be in control--]"  
"[Yes yes, we've established all of that. But why did Lilo appear? Why was he the one to push me into the water?]"  
  
"[Maybe you should call him in and examine him some more?]"  
"[We  **tried**  that this morning, Spieler,]" Wood said exasperatedly, following the buzzing of the ball to the wrong end of the couch. "[What difference would five hours make? He'd still be fiddling with those blocks and we wouldn't get anywhere.]"  
  
 _[I know the feeling,]_ she thought for what must have been the twentieth time. The "make suggestion have it denied" routine was becoming all-too-familiar ground, as was the feverish and futile wishing that Kindermann could somehow talk to and help her from Japan. Had he been here, he would have it solved in half the time, and with less growing animosity on Wood's part...  
Mind, if Kindermann had been here, that incident with the hypodermic needle wouldn't have happened, nor that trouble with the Halo-Stop-Ultra. If this stint as therapist had proven only one thing to her, it was her relative lack of experience with pharmaceuticals.  
And with doctors with their cards way too close to their chests.  
  
"[I'm not hearing any better suggestions,]" she heard from the other side of the clipboard.  
  
She sighed and looked down at her method sheet, hoping that a clue would pop out at her in black and white. Dream analysis was out, as was therapeutic interview, paint therapy... Then her eyes stopped at the word "meditation", undismissed, unmarked. He had rejected this the first time she put it to him, merely using the mat to scrape off some dust he'd gotten on his feet. But if all else had so far failed...  
  
"[Look,]" she began tentatively. "[It's getting late in the session, and we're both going around in circles. Why don't you relax a bit?]"  
  
Wood peered around at her; even through the thick black hood shadowing his features, he seemed angry by now. "[These constant subject changes won't look good on your employee record.]"  
  
"[I'm not changing the subject.]"  _[This time.]_  "[I'm suggesting meditation. I know,]" she said over his attempted interruption, "[it wastes time you could be spending thinking. I know. But you can't think properly if you're tense. You can clear the mind for a few minutes, maybe disassociate yourself from yourself - if that makes any sense - and then you'll be able to think it through without that irritation buzzing around.]"  
  
"...[I admit you have a point there.]" He moved back to the centre of the couch, looked down at the string in his hand. "[Once the dream analysis ball starts moving on its own, there's little point in dismissing other equally mystical methods.]" Up at her again. "[Besides. If getting into that disassociated state somehow  **does** help me understand my dream, so much the better, right?]"  
  
"[That's the spirit. I'll get the stuff out and you can give it a go.]" She put the clipboard down and fished out a green-patterned mat and a brass bowl from her bag of supplies as she continued jokingly: "[Hey, you could even get an astral projection. I've heard of it happening before. Maybe that's the control your dream was talking about. Who knows?]"  
  
Briefly, she thought he heard him say quietly, "[Indeed, it  _could_  be...]"  
  
Once the mat and bowl were set in place, Dr Spieler made sure to be very quiet as Wood got into the proper position. ("[Toes facing out to the side like this, right? Excellent.]") She hit the bowl with a mallet sneakily borrowed from the xylophone set, sat back down, watched curiously as he touched the humming bowl and made his own body vibrate, and waited.  
  
She could almost see him breathing as he sat there on the mat, looking out into space, far beyond the door, the walls. Breathe in, and out. In, out. Chest rise, chest fall. No noise, no sound, apart from her own breaths, which, she realized in mild bemusement, were already synchronizing with his. She had spent way too long at that yoga club in her gap year; the meditation tips hammered into her were practically autonomous.  
  
In, out, vibration. Serenity. Solitude.  
Imagine the sound of the ocean. Imagine waves lapping around, beside, behind. Imagine a salty sea breeze tickling the senses.  
Imagine an empty mind, cleared of distractions, focused only on inner harmony.  
Imagine being enveloped in a circle, a flickering glow, a shield from the noise of the outside world. Vivid blue and protective and soothing...  
  
...and, gradually, in reality, around Dr Wood.  
  
 _[What? No, that can't be.]_  She was getting seriously carried away. The glow was supposed to be a metaphor. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and pictured it gone, as if it had never been. But if anything, it was brighter when she opened them again, increasingly so with each blink.  
  
His calm, reached so easily in comparison, was cracking. Rather than clearing his mind and loosening his body, his feet were tense, his toes curled, deep in concentration. It was like he knew what was supposed to happen here. Like he knew that he was stuck.  
  
She rose silently from her chair and took a tentative step towards him. No change.  
She waved her hand in front of his face. No change, not even a different hue in the circle.  
Now that she was this close to it, she could feel -  _something_  - emanating from it. Not heat, per se, nor electricity, but a presence, something both possible and not.  
  
Gingerly, she phased her fingers through the glow to try and shake him back to reality.  
  
And the presence burst outwards, strong and fierce and physical, definitely real, too real, unreal, and everything was blasted back, herself, the chair, the leaves of the plant in the corner, a clanging tumbling sound, and suddenly a splitting pain on the back of her head, legs crumpling underneath her, and then -  
  
\- greyscale, neon shadows, white dots that somehow became circles and dots again twice over, and emerging from the sight and noise, Nurse Nadel's hands on her shoulders, not blue, tanned brown, her nails freshly done.  
  
"[-ler, can you hear me? Say something!]"  
  
"['m okay,]" she managed to say, but it felt slurred and nauseous in her mouth, sounded too, hearing and feeling like the crackle of a badly tuned radio. She tried to lean forward, but more pain erupted in the back of her skull. " _[Son-of-a-_ **ahhk--!** _]_ " Her hand reached there automatically, and under and through her hair something liquid seeped to her touch, redness over the fingertips. Blood?  
  
"[I don't know how long you've been out.]" Nadel's voice brought a focus she could latch on to, to stop herself feeling woozy and tasting iron. "[I've already dialled 112; the ambulance is coming. What happened?]"  
  
"['dun know,]" Spieler spluttered out, truthfully. "[Was working with Wood 'nd he--]" Something clicked, as best as it could. "[Wood! Lemme stand up, where is he?]" And despite the other's protests, she held on to the knocked-over chair to pull herself up and look over at the couch. The bowl on the floor.  
  
The plush raven on his back. Not moving.  
  
She staggered to the open door, ignoring Nadel reiterating she sit down. The patient lounge was the same. Snake, crocodile, hippopotamus, sheep, turtle, all unconscious. For a horrible moment, the ground shifted under her feet.  
  
"[Th' patients- we have to-]" she tried again to speak, but the nurse would have none of it.  
"[They're not the ones with the bleeding head, Spieler,]" she said, gently despite her words. "[Kindermann wouldn't want his first choice working with a TBI for their sake.]"  
  
"[But they're not moving, they-!]"  
  
"[They don't look hurt, so they should be awake by the time we get to the hospital. Dr Wood will take care of them if necessary. He's a professional.]" And she was guided forward and her legs moved against themselves.  
 _[Classic Nadel optimism]_ , she almost thought, but worry and pain obscured the words before they could be voiced, and the next few minutes were a blur of sirens and offers to stay with her just to make sure and the sun outside being way too bright and her just wanting to sleep the confusion away.  
  
This much she could comprehend: there would be no peace of mind for her  **this**  holiday.  
  
\---------------  
  
Somewhere in the void of unconsciousness, Dolly twitched awake.  
  
How had she even gotten asleep? One minute she was lying on her stomach ignoring the noises around her, as usual, and the next minute a sensation rushed onto her from behind, making everything stop, and now she was trying to open her eyes. Trying. Even through the crack of one, everything looked dark, thick and black, like she was still inside a dream she couldn't remember having.  
  
Struggling to wake up was not in itself new for her. It happened every other morning. But in the middle of the day? Great, like she needed unexpected naps on top of everything else---  
  
A sense wafted past her. The blackness had a smell to it, charcoaly, like a seriously overcooked barbecue.  
It wasn't unused sleep. It was smoke.  
  
 _There's nae smoke withit..._  
  
"[SHIT!]"  
Just like that, a fully-aware Dolly was on her feet on edge on end, ready to get out from the fire as quick as she could fire fire the asylum was on  **fire**  it was...  
  
...where was the fire? She couldn't see any flames or hear any burning, no matter how hard she looked around.  
Where was the smoke, for that matter? For it had vanished just as quickly as it had roused her. Which was stupid. Smoke didn't just up and disappear. It had to have been... but then why did it have a smell if it was fake?  
  
And why was the air electric around her instead? She could feel the static around her wool, leaping from hair to hair. Did lightning hit her in her sleep? Was that even possible?  
  
Then, as if things couldn't get confusing enough in her mind, a wind picked up, blowing against her and making her wool crackle. From where? The windows weren't open, the door to the outside was shut, and there was no way the air-con was that strong. The more she scampered around searching for the source, the fiercer the wind became, until it was only by focused effort she stayed on the ground.  
  
 _What's gonnae on?!_  her mind shrieked, and in that moment the focus was lost and a strong gust sent her flying smack into another toy. The impact knocked him partly onto his side, but at least he was now waking up as well, and she didn't have to go through this alone.  
  
The other toy pulled himself up, a little unsteady for the collision. "[Ow. What was that?]" he asked in a high-pitched voice as he rose. Augh, what was his name? He was green, a reptile, a crocodile - Kroko, of course.  
  
"[That was me, sorry,]" she said, as steadily as she could given the gust had now turned into a probable gale.  
  
"[It's okay. You're Dolly, right?]" Before she could reply, Kroko looked at her properly. "[Um, why do you have a wind around you?]"  
  
"[That's what  **I**  want to know!]"  
  
"[And why is everyone else asleep?]" he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "[It's not bedtime yet, and we don't sleep in here anyway.]"  
  
"[Great, I can see  _you're_  not going to be a help at all,]" she snapped, feeling a familiar anger rise inside her. No no, this was  **not** the time, get it back down, back down...  
  
"[I only just woke up! I'm as confused as you are!]"  
"[But you don't have wind around you, so you're a damn sight better off than me!]"  
  
He quickly wrapped himself around the blue pillow lying next to him in panic. "[Please stop yelling!]" he cried.  
  
"[Calm down, both of you,]" a new voice intruded from somewhere. Dolly blinked, spun around the room, looking for this new source of confusion.  
The hippo (his name began with L, Lucas, Liesel, Lilo, yes Lilo) was beginning to wake up too, as was the snake (she knew  **his**  name, it was Sly, he wouldn't let her forget on his first day). The turtle in the corner was still out for the count, which left only...  
  
Sure enough, the raven with the notebook had just entered from the other room. Dr W-something.  
"[Oh good, a smart guy. That ought to make it easier,]" she said aloud, partly to reassure herself... and oddly, as she calmed down, the wind dropped a smidgen. Huh.  
  
"[What exactly is happening here?]" Dr Wood asked once he'd reached them. "[And why is there a wind around you... Dolly, was it?]"  
Dolly barked out a rough laugh. "[Why does everybody keep asking me that? You'd think this was new and scary or something.]"  
  
"[There's no need to take that tone. I'm a therapist, just like Dr Spieler. I can help you if you treat me like one.]"  
  
She was going to protest that Spieler let her take whatever tone she pleased, but... now  _there_  was a point. Where had Dr Spieler gone off to? If a toy so much as tripped, she'd normally come running, so what was taking her so long now?  
Kroko apparently thought the same thing: "[Where  _is_  Dr Spieler? She'll know what to do too.]"  
  
"[Not in the therapy room right now, I can tell you that much,]" the doctor informed both of them. "[That's partly why I'm asking you - I only know my side, and I need yours to get the bigger picture. Now do either of you know what happened?]"  
  
"[Not really,]" she said in reply. "[We were sitting around not doing much of anything, then something hit me on the back, and suddenly I was out like a light. I don't know about the others 'cause, well...]"  
  
"[I saw it!]" Kroko butted in again from behind the blanket. "[I saw what hit her - us. It was a blue light, sort of like a circle. I was remembering what the motivational tape said and then it came out from where you were and hit Sly, then Lilo and me, and then Dolly ran into me and woke me up and started yelling.]"  
  
"[Thank you, Kroko, he really needed to know that last bit,]" Dolly muttered sarcastically.  
"[You're welcome.]"  
 _What?_  
  
"[Hm. And you have no idea why you woke up with a gust of wind surrounding you, Dolly?]"  
  
"[No-- sort of. Technically I saw and smelt smoke first, then I woke up properly and it became electricity,  _then_  the wind came. ...Actually...]" she trailed off, paused, felt a soft breeze tickle her ears. "[It was a lot worse two minutes ago. It's calmed down quite a bit since you started asking questions.]"  
"[I noticed.]" Wood looked down at his notebook and started making notes on what was presumably a blank page.  
  
"[What are you writing about?]"  _Silly question, Kroko._  
"[I'm beginning to understand things more clearly now. The intensity of her wind is in direct proportion to the intensity of...how exactly did you feel when the wind was at its strongest?]" he asked.  
"[Confused, mostly.]"  
"[And this occurred directly after the light hit you and the others. A double correlation... double causation? And if it came from...]" He was talking more to himself now, scribbling furiously. Lilo had wandered closer to the three talking by this time and was now watching him write too. Sly just looked on from his usual spot. Was he really even paying attention? She couldn't tell.  
  
But she could see that none of them had any sort of smoke or static or wind.  
  
"[What I don't understand is,]" she said in Wood's direction, "[why I'm the only one who's got this... weather, I suppose, around me. If I'm guessing your thoughts correct and you think it's to do with that blue light, everyone else should be getting it too, but they're not.]"  
  
"[...I don't think that's entirely true.]" He stopped writing and looked around at the curious others. "[In fact... Would anyone mind if I take you back into the therapy room and give each of you a one-on-one session? I'll explain once I have what I need to know.]"  
  
The hippo and crocodile shook their heads, and Sly a little bit too. Dolly did the same - she would prefer he just tell them at least part of his theory now to save trouble further on, but she knew the sense in following a herd.  
"[Good. I'm going to start with Dolly, since that will give me a firmer basis to go on, and then I--]"  
  
"Um? Spieler? You out there?"  
Dolly hadn't heard  **that**  voice yet. Nor that language, not for a long time. Everyone turned to the source - the turtle was finally up, and poking his head out the other door.  
"Dr Spieler? Nurse? Hellooo?" he called. "Anyone coming in? Everyone's gathering together over here and I pretty much have no idea what they're talking about, so..."  
  
"Wait, ye can spick English?" Dolly blurted.  
  
This time, the turtle ( **Dub** , yes, she'd just remembered his name, Dub) was the one to turn to them. "Wait,  _you_  can too?! Why didn't you say?! I've been stuck with no one to talk to and you spoke English all this time?"  
"Ye ne'er bothered tae ask." It came out sour, but she could feel her tail wagging in high spirits. Yes, this was better, speaking in her native tongue, much better.  
  
"I did try, once, but you barked and growled at me. Remember?" he said, scuttling closer to the others on all fours.  
"Ah, reit. Sorry abit 'at."  
"Pretty fiercely, if I remember right. Not exactly a warm welcome."  
"I  **said**  aam sorry!" That anger was coming back, doing nothing to prove her point; the air around her was getting hot. (Maybe there was something in Wood's theory?)  
"See, just like that."  
  
Dolly just bit her tongue before she could make it worse and turned back to the others.  _Ah swear, if t'day gits onie weirder..._  
  
\---------------  
  
Dr H Wood, PhD, was certainly not having the calm and smooth-sailing day he had anticipated. He'd thought his dreams conspiring against him and making him think harder than he had for a good while was going to be the highlight, or lowlight, he supposed; until now, meditation not going his way and patients with hitherto unexpressed and unexplained abilities had not even been a possibility.  
  
But he was nothing if not adaptable to the circumstances. Dolly had already re-explained the situation to the turtle, and was now back on the therapeutic couch, resting on the zip running up her stomach as she often did under his watch. (He was facing away from the bloodstain left by Spieler on the wall; it made him feel rather queasy to look at, so he would clean that up when he got the chance.) His growing hypothesis would no doubt be correct - to be wrong was a rare event - but there was no harm in double-checking.  
  
"[Dolly, would you prefer me to speak in English or German for this session?]" he asked, for formality's sake.  
"English, please. It's much easier fur me."  
"All right." He shifted awkwardly. It might have been better for her, but he had never quite grown accustomed to dropping the German accent in other languages. "How are you feeling right now?"  
  
"Still a wee bit confused, but... dunno." She looked around from her spot on the couch. "Aam nae really sure  **whit**  tae feel, tae be honest. I dornt want onie mair nasty surprises."  
"Unfortunately, you'll have to deal with one more. Try to remember how you felt the last time you were in this room."  
  
When she had been quiet for a minute with little more than a whiff of wind, he decided some help was in order. "What did the therapist do with you?" he prompted. "What did Spieler say?"  
"It was abit a week back, I reckon. Lest I remember, she'd pit 'at silly-lookin' puppit oan 'er hain an' -- wait, yeah, she wanted me tae look at myself in th' mirrur." He traced her gaze over to behind a cupboard, spotting an exposed corner of a partly shattered surface.  
  
"A mirror which you then broke?"  
  
"Hey, I was pissed aff at meself when she did 'at, okay?" she protested, pressing her muzzle into the white material, oblivious to the cloud forming above her head as she spoke. "An' seein' a pathetic creature lookin' back at ye an' 'en hearin' that's supposed tae be who ye really ur... It doesnae help much, ye ken? Other-me deserved it anyway, coz she's glaikit an' deser--"  
  
But before she could continue her self-deprecation, she noticed the rainstorm that had started falling around her. "'at whit ye meant by nasty surprise?" she asked resignedly.  
  
Wood just nodded and added to his notes.  
 _[Patient: Dolly. Progress: stage 2-3. Has 'weathers' that correlate to current emotional state. Primarily air-based, approx 35cm radius.]_  
  
****  
  
When it came to Kroko's turn, he refused to even enter the room until the trail left by Dolly's sadness had been dried out completely. Aquaphobia was usually an easy disorder to work around, but if she persisted in being in a rain-inducing state of mind, Wood surmised as he did so, it could get very uncomfortable very fast.  
Still, at least he could get the stain off of the wall at the same time.  
  
Once the crocodile was actually up there, he took the same tack as he had with the sheep, since that had procured results. "[Do you remember what you were doing when you were last in here, Kroko?]"  
He nodded, sitting in a ball on the pillow. "[Motivational training. The tape said I was an eagle and I could fly around and catch an easy prey. ...Um...]" He looked down at his feet. "[Am I allowed to fly now? I'm still a little scared, and flying helps me calm down.]"  
  
"[Whatever makes it easier,]" Wood said obligingly.  _[For either of us.]_  
"[Thanks!]" he chirped, sliding back down and beginning to flap his arms. "[ _I can fly, I can fly fly~..._ ]"  
  
"[Out of curiosity,]" Wood interrupted after a bit, "[what precisely about flying helps you?]"  
"[A lot of things. The flapping. Gaining wings. I can become an eagle and fly across the sky, and when I am I don't have to be a crocodile anymore.]" His eyes drifted shut. "[It's soothing to be an eagle instead.]"  
  
"[Soothing it may be, but I highly recommend you look down.]"  
One eye snapped back open, and his voice became confused. "[But eagles aren't supposed to look down except to hunt, and I'm not hungry.]"  
  
Nonetheless, even as he said it, his pupil drifted downwards, and with a shriek he fell the two feet he'd risen into the air back down.  
  
 _[Patient: Kroko. Progress: stage 5. Metaphorical flight has become literal by way of arm movement and pep talk.]_  
  
****  
  
Either Sly was very good at predicting questions, which he doubted, or he'd been saving this up since he had awoken. As soon as he'd slithered onto the couch, he began to chase his tail around himself in a pretzel shape with nary a hiss of warning.  
  
"[Sly, is that what you did when you were last here? Look at me when I'm talking.  **Sly.** ]"  
  
Fortunately, it didn't take very long for Wood to get an answer, focus or no focus. As the patient picked up speed, flickers of electricity sparked across the length of his body, more and more with each second.  
  
"[Okay, I know what your power is. You can stop now.]"  
  
That got the snake to cease, the electric fizzling out with it, and speak for the first time that day. "[But I'm making pretty sparks, tail!]" he stated before shaking the five-ring tail at the end of his body and setting off again.  
  
"[You might see pretty sparks, Sly...]"  _[Yes, very impressive, potentially dangerous, what a power...]_  "[...but here, in the real world, I see massive potential.]"  
  
"[...and pretty sparks too,] ja ja?"  
  
It took having to absorb most of the lightning generated to finally get him off of the bed. Sometimes, less is indeed more.  
  
 _[Patient: Sly. Progress: stage 3. Increase in speed and aerodynamics; static and electricity easily generated.]_  
  
****  
  
Lilo was a lot more difficult to deal with. While a vast majority of the toys had items important to them, Wood had instructed them to leave them outside. Guessing and gauging powers was hard enough on its own without distractions in the form of blocks, ropes and blankets.  
Apparently this concept was too advanced for the autistic hippo.  
  
It didn't help that, being mute, he couldn't answer any question Wood, pacing around the floor in irritation, could possibly put forward to him. His words to Spieler were true regardless of circumstances, it seemed. Those clicking blocks had to go.  
  
Wood climbed onto the bed and snatched the red puzzle pieces out of Lilo's hands, much to his stubborn disagreement. Naturally, he attempted to grab them right back, but Wood's grip was stronger. "[Lilo, these blocks won't help anyone if you keep playing with them. Let go!]" The one shaped like a bridge was put down first, and after some struggling, the one shaped like a T right on top of it.  
  
This was both a mistake and a blessing, as they found out after being blasted away by an invisible force for the first and second time that day. Lilo had gotten lucky.  
  
 _[Patient: Lilo. Progress: stage 1. Blocks, when placed back to back, create pseudo-force-field. Effects when fitted together as yet unknown.]_  
  
****  
  
"Dub, I don't want to have another argument about objects. Leave your timer with your rope and get in here."  
The turtle obliged, but not without comment: "Heh, first the sheep, and now Dr Wood speaks English too. Today just gets better and better." Wood, naturally, decided to take that as a compliment.  
  
The examination of Dub was both remarkable and not. Spieler had just not gotten anywhere with him, so there were no memories of therapeutic progress to fall back on. Pro **cess** , certainly, but Dub mostly spurned those attempts. "What does paint therapy even have to do with whether I have powers or not?" he asked when shown a blank canvas. "It just wastes time."  
  
Granted, he wasn't  **totally**  unwilling to cooperate. When it came to demonstrations of physical prowess, he leapt, sometimes literally, at every opportunity. "Perhaps this light wave gave you enhanced speed and strength?" Wood proposed after Dub had run at his top speed around the room for about two minutes.  
"Nah... I'm usually a lot... faster than that," he replied, trying to conceal his panting. And as he proved afterwards, he hadn't spontaneously gained the muscle to lift up the end of the couch.  
No, not even when Wood had in fact gotten  _off_  the couch.  
  
 _[Patient: Dub. Progress: stage 1. Powers currently not visible; highly debatable as to if he has any.]_  
  
"Can't say I'm that surprised," Dub said suddenly, catching his attention again. "I was furthest out from the blast, after all. And if you were right in the centre, maybe you got some to compensate?"  
  
A silence as Wood thought this over. Then, an addendum to his notes.  _[More astute than I gave him credit for, however. Might not be entirely useless.]_  
  
****  
  
There was no point in Dub going back out, since Wood needed someone to fill in the role of observer when it came to finding out his own powers. After all, as long as he had been the one to bring it up...  
  
"I'm going to try and meditate again, like I was just before the blast of energy," he explained to the turtle. "That has to be the key to all of this. What will happen is unclear, but meditation got us to these states - you exempting - so something is bound to, and when it does, you  _will_  let me know. Do you understand?"  
"Uh, sure," Dub said, sounding as uncertain as he looked.  
  
Back on the mat. Touching the bowl, getting in harmony. Feet facing outward. Eyes closed. Serenity within reach.  
  
The first time Wood had done this - how long ago? About half an hour now, forty minutes at most? - it had been an experience if nothing else. He had heard the ocean in his dream, and felt the wind pushing him along, and tried to get the astral projection Spieler had spoken of. But the effort had spun something slightly off-kilter and he had gotten stuck. No moving forward, no moving back, caught in a limbo between tranquility and irritation, feeling a build-up inside him of mental water and expectations and reality until the ocean burst and he was unconscious.  
And then aforementioned reality had twisted around itself, and here they were.  
Now, it came a lot easier. The boundaries had fallen. There was no build-up, which meant no supposed 'glow'. But what else could he achieve, in this quiet state, with only a mind watching him?  
He imagined himself doing something simple. Defying gravity, like Kroko. Levitating, one inch off the ground, two... a hum in the background, toes relaxed...  
  
"Wood. Wood, you're floating in the air!" he heard from surprisingly close by.  
He opened his eyes from under the hood and checked his surroundings. No, he was definitely still firmly rooted to the mat. He could feel it underneath him, vaguely scratchy but comfy.  
An opaque reflection of himself, on the other hand, hovered just off the end of the couch, up and down, complete with the hum.  
  
A dubious Dub reached out to touch it, but his brown-'gloved' hand phased through. "So you're levitating  _and_  a ghost? Isn't that cheating a bit?"  
"Dub, that isn't really me. I'm back here..." The sentence faded out, Wood losing a part of himself in thought. The image flickered out ever-so-briefly, then restored itself. "...then that would mean the image you see is a projection of what I want you to see?"  
"...I don't get it."  
  
Wood stood up, focusing again on the reflection, trying to maintain it, and headed to the door. "[Can anybody else see what Dub can see?]" he called out into the huddle of toys double-checking their abilities in the middle of the patient lounge. Dolly had stopped raining, fortunately, instead lying flat in a spontaneous mini-field of grass, something else to add to his notes.  
Kroko was the one to come over and check its authenticity. "[I don't see anything,]" he said sheepishly after a cursory glance. "[Just Dub staring at a wall. Sorry.]"  
  
Wood turned back to the floating image. It did look remarkably like him, and seemed almost solid. But a drop in concentration, a blink, and the visual and hum disappeared completely, further startling Dub. He couldn't shake an internal smile as he turned to the notebook one more time.  
  
 _[I, Dr Wood, can conjure realistic images and sounds at a thought.  
Whatever caused this certainly has priorities I can get behind.]_  
  
****  
  
Indeed, whatever caused this... that in itself was a conundrum.  
  
Technically he knew what had administered these effects: the glow from the meditation. That was easy to correlate. But why had it appeared in the first place? Would it have occurred at that point anyway, or was it unlocked specifically by his foray into the side-route?  
Had the potential to power up (or to harm) always been there?  
  
No, it couldn't have been. Powers beyond those of conventional toys, flying crocodiles, spontaneous rainclouds... all were, scientifically speaking, impossible. His line of work had always allowed for some anomalies - he was a plush raven working amongst humans and with his ilk, after all - but the inconsistent awareness of plush toy animation, amongst others, could be explained away with simple (if controversial) theories.  
What theory could explain away the abilities of the beings gathered around him right now?  
  
Then again... he looked once more at the ball on a string. It hadn't shaken since he'd been thrust into this fiasco. Earlier on in the day, so long ago in this new perspective, he had said that this ball moving on its own was reason enough to suspend disbelief. If he could allow that, why not...?  
But in turn, why?  
  
"Wood, whit was th' point ay callin' us haur if yoo're jist gonnae sit aroond an' nae teel us anythin'?"  
  
Right. The patients were still surrounding him, waiting for answers.  
Yes.  
  
He placed the ball down and cleared his throat, looked at each toy in turn. "[Kroko. Lilo. Dolly. Sly. There is little point in me beating about the bush: all of us...]" No, not all, he remembered Dub back in the therapy room, persisting in his attempts to lift the couch at his insistence. "[...the majority of us have gained, for lack of a better word, superpowers.]"  
Sly was the only one to vocalize a reaction: "[ **Awesome!** ]"  
"[Specifically, powers mapping to whatever therapeutic mindset you were in at the time,]" he continued. "[The science and psychology behind these are questions I simply cannot answer. Not because they are too advanced for me, but because I wouldn't know where to begin in the explanation. So instead, we should figure out what to do with these new enhanced abilities, under the assumption that they won't disappear in the night.]"  
  
"There's nae pure a--" Dolly, in her grassy patch, caught herself just in time. "Oaps. [There's not really a lot to do with them. We're pretty much stuck here until the humans get back, and I can't exactly turn off these things.]"  
"[But neither can we merely sit around letting them fester. If their timespan turns out to be limited, we can ill afford to waste a golden opportunity.]"  _[So many unanswered questions...]_  
  
"[Maybe we can be D-Gruppe?]" Sly once again interjected.  
"[A good suggestion, if any of us knew who D-Gruppe were.]"  
  
"[You know, D-Gruppe. People with powers running around and being heroes. We could wait for Spieler to get back and dress us up in red capes, then we can go outside and be heroes too! Mind you, there were seven people in D-Gruppe, not five cuddle toys, and I don't think they ever lived in a clinic. Did they? I can't remember. I don't think Ali ever read past the first issue. He might have been a collector of Fix und Foxi though, I saw a few copies lying around but I dunno where, Shiva knows why because they were mostly not  **doesers**  not really, which is kind of the anti-opposite of what we think we should be do, right?]"  
  
 _[...Christ,]_ Wood's mind whispered to him,  _[has Sly **ever**  said that much in his time here?] _Even Lilo had stopped clicking those infernal blocks and was staring at Sly in surprise.  _[If nothing else, these effects do wonders for inter-patient communication.]_  
"[No, it probably wasn't Fix und Foxi then,]" the snake finished decisively. Then, "[Dolly, you're winding a little again.]"  
  
"[...Right.]" He had to return to the task at wing. "[Our present location and your mental states mean that we can't go out and be, ahem, "D-Gruppe" right away. So what I suggest is that we wait for the return of Spieler and Nadel, and explain our situation to them. I'll take responsibility for all of you and our 'powers' in the meantime. Even if they can't do anything to tame them, Spieler will have even more incentive to get you fit to rejoin society.]"  
Kroko gave a little cough. "[And then can we do what Sly said?]" he asked. "[I like the idea of being a hero.]"  
"[Obviously we'll have to put it to a majority vote closer to the time, but if all are in favour, then yes.]"  
  
"[Double-awesome!]" Sly cried out, spontaneously circling the small group. "[Okay, we can't be D-Gruppe because they're already D-Gruppe, so what can  **we**  be cal--]"  
  
Wood stepped out in front of Sly, tapering him out before he could go off into another ramble or crash into anyone. "[No naming yet. We can't learn to run before we know how to walk. Our first priority should be to test the range and potential of our abilities. What can we really do? What skies are our limits?]"  
  
"[...I-okay. That works too.]"


	2. Festina Lente

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter theme** :  conflict  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Burn It Down - Linkin Park](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgEKLhvCCVA)  
>  _Originally published on July 23rd 2012_

Dub may have liked it when a whole lot of everything happened at once, but yesterday had just been ridiculous.  
  
Maybe because usually the 'everything' wasn't quite this drastic. These things coming in twos or threes - the team winning their third race on the trot and its captain finding someone special in the same day, for example - were often good, but not really game changers. Even being committed in a German asylum he could just about handle, as that was on its own, and only until said captain came back for him.  
Learning that not one but two of his fellow plushies actually spoke pretty good English, losing track of the therapist,  **and**  finding out that everyone now had a fair batch of superpowers (which, from the sounds out there, hadn't in fact disappeared in the night) within the space of an hour, on the other hand...  
  
Everyone, that is, except Dub himself.  
  
That part, he both did and didn't mind so much, and both for the same reason: it meant that he could be trained by Dr Wood as what he called 'home support'. Wood had been a constant presence before, walking around and taking notes whenever he saw him work extra hard. (Or was it that Dub worked harder when he saw Wood take notes?) But now he seemed right in his element, serving as an organizer of sorts of everyone else and testing his own abilities by projecting various things at specific toys, such as falling boxes, every so often. He was out there right now, talking to someone sternly. Dub couldn't tell who, as it was in German again, though the name Lilo came up once or twice, and he didn't want to waste precious energy peeking through the doorway to make sure.  
  
Right now he was in his bedroom, lying on his back and finding shaped patterns among the grooves and bumps on the ceiling. Was it morning or afternoon? How long had he been awake? With no therapist or nurse to get everyone up, he'd accidentally had a bit of a lie-in, they probably all had, and his sense of time was out of whack.  
Normally, he'd be in the hall and skipping again by now. It was his routine. Wake up, make sure the timer is properly set, try to beat his target of 60 jumps every 30 seconds, sometimes be ushered into the therapy room to be faced with another series of distractions from the goal, then bedtime.  
  
Yesterday, routine had been well and truly upheaved. The timer hadn't made a single sound for the rest of the day, for one thing. He would have checked it by now, but Wood wouldn't hear of it.  
"Dub, for the last time, put that down," he'd said on one occasion. "Home support really shouldn't be so distracted. Do you want to do your bit or not?" And Dub had promptly put it down because, yes, he  _did_  want to do his bit, particularly if not doing so meant getting Wood as irritated at him as he had been at the incomprehensible Sly a few minutes before.  
To be fair, by the thirteenth repetition of "D-Gropeh" or whatever he was saying, Dub would have told him off too.  
  
Even when Wood wasn't around to keep him focused, he hadn't had a chance to look at it, because of other more pressing matters like trying just one more time to lift up that damn couch (with no success) or Dolly swapping reasons for admittance with him to make up for lost conversation time. By the time he had found a moment alone, he'd fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow and the chance was lost. And now here he was, listening to a deep voice and a rough voice - probably not Lilo then - communicating outside without really understanding them.  
  
Funny. He'd never felt so integrated since he got here, and at the same time so utterly out of the loop.  
  
Out of the loop. Irrelevant.  
Was that what he was?  
The phrase home support had been thrown around like a football over last afternoon, but Dub hadn't really  **done**  anything besides watching other toys push themselves to certain limits and listening to Wood explain each ability to him like he couldn't see it for himself. Was "home support" just another way of saying "there to stand still and look busy"? He'd had enough of that when he was the team mascot two years back.  
  
Then, team mascots often got promoted to team players once they'd proven their worth, even if they were plush turtles. Another downside of being the only powerless one: no prospective progress, no chance to achieve goals he'd fallen behind on. Just more time on his hands.  
  
Before the reminder could slip his mind again, Dub fished out the timer from inside his shell and had a look at it... only to find a blank white LED where seconds and minutes should have been. It had somehow switched itself off, with no clue as to how to turn it on again.  
"Dammit," he said aloud, irritably stuffing it back inside. " **That's**  never happened before." He couldn't even do any real exercise today, then. The rope on the hook on the wall would just have to stay on the hook; there was no way he could do anything with it without a reliable countdown to work with. He'd tried it before, and he'd just tripped all over the place.  
  
He'd have to bring it up with Max when they saw each other again. Another advantage to offset all those disadvantages; explaining a glitchy timer was difficult enough without explaining something like superpowers.  
  
Well. There was nothing left to do now but try and make the best out of the new circumstances. Two more minutes in here to focus, and then it was time to get up and about and back on task. Wouldn't want to disappoint---  
  
And then a loud crack of thunder outside the door and a scream jolted him into movement. Settling would have to wait.  
  
\---------------  
  
"Gie out!"  
"Dolly, if you'll just let me--"  
"I dornt caur! Out,  **OUT!** "  
  
Dub had never seen Dolly (must have been who Wood was talking to earlier) quite like this before. Shaking in both fear and fury, eyes wide, her wool standing up straight and quivering like a jelly.  
Okay, the straight wool thing he'd seen before, once or twice, but not with the other things.  
  
Wood's demeanor hadn't changed; he was obviously trying to talk down the scared sheep. "If you'll give me a chance to--"  
"Yoo've hud yer chance, yoo've hud several, 'at was yer lest, gie oot! GET OUT reit noo!" The air around her waved and pulsed, as if she was standing on a gas leak. That couldn't be anything but bad news, considering everyone else had backed into a corner in a huddle to get away from the noise.  
  
Dub had half a mind to join them and stay out of this, but - "Ah, Dub, good timing. Could you please calm Dolly down until she's in a good position to hear me out?"  
"Oh, dornt ye daur try tae act loch  _yoo're_  th' victeem haur, asshole!!" she shouted before he could agree or disagree.  
"All I want is for you to listen--"  
"Which is a bit rich, comin' frae ye, isnae it?!"  
"Uh-"  
"--for you to listen to me and let me explain--"  
"Hey-"  
"Explain whit, jist enaff tae gie 'at turtle lackey ay yours oan yer side--"  
"Guys-"  
"Dub is not a lackey, he's home support, and if you had any--"  
  
" **Guys.** " Dub finally managed to get a word in edgeways. "It'd help if I knew what was going on here before I take anyone's side."  
The voices of the raven and the sheep both erupted at once and muddled together in an attempt to explain themselves. The audible whimpering from the crocodile in the corner didn't help matters either.  _Steiff, it's like tryouts night all over again._  
"One at a time, please?!" he corrected himself, but to no avail.  
 _When you said you wanted to do something, is this what you meant?_  a sarcastic inner voice whispered to him.  
  
Dolly broke through first: " **'at a-hole Wood triggered me!!** "  
"Triggered meaning?"  
"He was doin' his fancy-shmancy image-makin' shtick wi' animals thes time, an' he made a projection ay a dug when he kent  _fur a goddamn fact_  aam scared stiff ay 'em!" she spat furiously, getting muzzle-to-nose with him. The electric heat coming off of her would soak Dub's shell with sweat if he could do so.  
  
"If I may interject?" Wood's words were quiet, but still managed to cut through the conversation. "Surely you didn't expect me to stick to boxes for the whole day? Animals were the natural progression of my limits, and dogs seemed easiest to project. I did not "know for a fact" you were scared of them."  
  
She thankfully skidded away from him and back to the doctor. "It said in mah case file! It's reit thaur! "Dolly: scared tae near death ay dogs"--"  
""Reacts adversely to dog  _bones_ "."  
"AN' DOGS BY EXTENSION, YE IDIOT!!"  
  
"Calling me an idiot won't help your argument, Dolly," he said with a trace of coldness, gradually imitated in a deeper part of Dub's body. Until now, what few outbursts of emotion Wood had expressed had been snide and irritated (and sharp in Sly's case), not outright icy. Like this, he looked and sounded truly dominating... almost dangerous.  
It'd be spine-chilling, if the cold was in his spine. To be honest, he couldn't quite tell  **where**  it was.  
 _Enjoy the conflict there, bub._  
  
Still. "He's got a point. He's gotta test his powers too, and he is trying to be civil here," he pointed out, hoping he wasn't giving away how bad he was at mediation. Calming people down was more Max's department...  
  
It didn't work, of course. " _Och that's reit, tak' **his**  side!_" Dolly shouted, and suddenly the air around her reflected the cold as well. "Ah kent ye wood! He can snap at Sly an' make me loch thes an' nae e'en apologize fur it whenever he pleases, but as lang as he's goddamn civil...!"  
  
"Dolly, stop," Wood ordered. "You're making Kroko upset." Indeed, Kroko was now hiding underneath that pillow he always carried around and shaking too. Dub took the chance to slip over to the corner with the others - clearly he wasn't helping, and he didn't want to stand around like an idiot and be useless for the rest of the conversation.  
Kroko whispered something to him when he got there, gingerly shuffling away from his arrival. He didn't really know what to say.  
  
"Now that I've made you quiet for once..." he continued. "First, I will concede your last point. In my rush to calm you down, I omitted an apology. I'm sorry. Is that good enough?"  
The short and sarcastic laugh was a clear no.  
"Second, it wasn't  _snapping_ at Sly per se, it was merely saying what we were all thinking. You were the one to exaggerate that particular issue."  
The snake, as if on cue, said something out loud, though Dub couldn't tell what it meant, even this close to him. (At least it wasn't D-Gropeh.)  
"Third, before you were affected by my projection, you were as quick to forgive me as anyone else. All I am asking for is a chance to--"  
  
" _Ye. Hae. Bin. Given. Multiple. Chances._ " For a sheep without teeth, or a visible mouth for that matter, she sounded eerily like she was speaking through them.  
  
"And for a good reason. What you seem to have forgotten, Dolly, is that I have taken the mantle of leader in Spieler's absence with only slight rebuttal, if any. And apart from mistakes anyone would make in my position, I would like to think I'm doing a decent job at it." He turned around to face the cowering crowd and said something in their direction, again in German. Presumably a question? It ended like one. The toys around him hesitated, then nodded slightly. For a second the turtle wondered if he should nod too, but Dolly glaring at him, then at the authority in black, made him think better of it. Was her air hot or cold now?  
  
"You see?" Wood finished, turning back around. "They agree with me. So as long as you are outvoted and I am a member of staff at this asylum, I will stay in the group. That's just how it goes."  
  
At that, Dolly erupted again.  
Into roaring, angry flames, into a growl, into a charge.  
  
The result was unfiltered chaos. Wood had the sense to get out of the way; Dolly failed to turn in time and skidded into the frame of the door, leaving a trail of fire in her wake; the leftover patch of grass from yesterday caught alight; Wood ducked into a nearby room and came back out with a bunch of fire extinguishers; she tried to smack into him again as he picked one at random; he sprayed quite a bit of water all over her feet and over her; she turned from a growling sheep on fire to a slightly-wet furious sheep still on fire; the next charge almost made contact and sent a streak of flames across the floor; the next few blasts only added fuel to the rage...  
By the time every extinguisher was empty, the smoke alarm had started going off and grating the ears and the walls had gotten set alight too, and burning oppressive heat was everywhere, and Dolly refused to calm down, and everyone else was out of the corner and dodging the fire on the floor and only grabbing whatever was nearest and dearest and just getting out as fast as they could, Dub amongst them, running running, no thinking, no thought, no going back, no messing about,  **OUT.**  
  
In what seemed like a single breath, the colors changed and Dub and the hippo and snake and crocodile were all surrounded by brown and green instead of soothing wooden white walls, and thoughts and words and images collided with each other trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened.  
  
\---------------  
  
Gradually, the thoughts slowed down and caught up with the departed turtle, and he took a moment to pull himself up from his hands and knees (how had he gotten down there?) and reassess what was left of the situation.  
  
Okay. They were in green, in safety. A forest. That meant they were outside. It was later than he'd thought it was; the sun was lower in the sky.  
He found he'd fallen behind a tree trunk. The other three were taking refuge behind a thicker one, or in Kroko's case dangling from a low hanging branch, and watching the destruction of the clinic from the front. Dolly was with them too, her firestorm cut down to a few candle-flames and shallow breaths. No one was hurt. That was good.  
Some braver humans swarmed around the building with buckets of water and a fresh supply of extinguishers to try and stop more damage being done, but judging by the view from the windows, it was a bit late for that, and there was no going back in there to fetch his rope.  
  
There was also no sign of Wood.  
  
A brief panic set in again - if there was no Wood, there was no one to look out for him and the others, and then who knew what would happen out here in the forest? What if he was still in the burning building?! He had to find him and get him out of there. If he did, perhaps the mood and the group could still be salvaged.  
He sped out into a relatively open space and prepared to run for someone else's life.  
  
"Dub, yoo're nae thinkin' ay gonnae back in thaur?!"  
Only for Dolly, surprisingly on the ball, to catch him out.  
  
No point in hiding the truth: "I'll be back as quick as I can. I'm just gonna see if Wood's--"  
Once again, a harsh bout of laughter. "Look at th' priorities oan ye! Asylum's oan fire, an' whit dae ye caur abit?"  
"Whether he's alive or dead, actually."  
"'en dornt waste yer breath. Th' prick escaped befair Ah cood bash heem intae th' wall. Unfortunately."  
  
Well, one issue solved out of the several hundred they were currently in wasn't bad. Next one: setting her straight.  
"Unfortunately?" he burst out, swiveling around to face her. "Unfortuna-- Listen to what you're saying here. We've just had to run away from a fire that you caused--"  
  
"If yoo're gonnae rant at me fur 'bein' tay hard oan him', Kroko an' I jist hud 'at talk," she said, relatively evenly. Her fire had by this time gone, leaving instead small shivers of ice, helping to take the wind out of his sails. "I'll teel ye whit Ah tauld heem. Aye, Ah went a little tay far thaur."  
 _A little?_  
" **Aye,**  I caused a fire, and I feel terrible fur it. But he- it's jist nae... he triggered me wi' nae warnin'. He's a doctur, he shood ken 'at isnae okay."  
  
"And setting the place alight is?!"  
"Ah jist admitted aam nae blameless here; th' leest ye can do is say th' sam'!"  
"I'm not talking about blame here!" Focus, calm, don't get derailed. "Wood shouldn't have done it, I know. But he said sorry. You heard him. And now we have no shelter and no one to look out for us. That's what I can't get past."  
  
"...Yoo're nae gonnae see mah point ay view at aw, ur ye?" She emitted a sigh, her breath visible in the air. "Okay, forgit it. Side wi' heem if it helps ye sleep at nicht." She returned her attention to the others, resuming a different-language conversation with Sly, but even amongst the unknown words she sounded defeated.  
Crap, he didn't want to make her feel  _that_  bad... He had to smooth things over. "Dolly, I'm not trying to get onto--"  
"Ah dornt want tae talk abit thes anymair, Dub."  
  
All right. At least they were at a sort of compromise. Issue number three: had all of him made it out okay?  
...Self-preservation after checking Wood had escaped... his priorities really  _were_  confused.  
His head was very much intact, and he was still functional. His arms were there. The bottoms of his feet itched, but that was normal after a bout of running followed by slacking. He patted the front of his shell down - and abruptly, a tiny beep from his chest.  
  
The timer! All the running must have jolted it back to life. Dub pulled it out to make sure, looked at it. Yep, the numbers were...  
were...  
  
...were wrong. It wasn't a countdown, like it normally was. It was like it had been when Max had bought it for him in those first two months together, the numbers 88:88 flashing repeatedly on the screen.  
"Ugh, perfect," he muttered.  
  
"Whit ye complainin' abit thes time?" For god's sake, he wished Dolly would stop catching him off guard like that. The downsides of finding someone to talk to were becoming more and more blatant by the minute.  
"This stupid timer's broken," he elaborated anyway, beginning to press buttons in a fevered attempt to make it work again. "It's only gone and reset itself. Augh, a botched timer,  **and**  my rope's probably burnt up... Max's gonna be pi--"  
  
 _Beep._  The screen changed and the countdown restored itself. 30 seconds, like it always had been. A grin crept across his face. "Ah, good! Never mind, I fixed it mys..."  
  
The word died in his mouth, and his gaze snagged mid-rise.  
The world had frozen.  
  
None of the others were moving, not even a shifting of eyes or intake of breath. Kroko had been captured mid-blink, Dolly mid-grunt of exasperation. The air was eerily still, silent. He had almost fallen into a photo, a color-captured moment where he himself was the only spectator.  
  
That wasn't possible.  
It couldn't have been possible.  
Then, ravens floating in the air couldn't have been either. Yet he had seen it, crystal clear.  
  
The timer ticked on in his hand. Six seconds.  
  
"Oh god." A thought washed over him; he voiced it aloud, as keeping it in him made everything uneasy and unsettled. " **I**  might not have absorbed the blast, but... but maybe my timer did?"  
  
Another series of beeps cut in before the sentence was done. The frozen world quick-thawed... the blinks of Kroko's eyes and the 88:88 resumed, and the grunt cut into confusion.  
"Be pih-er did? Whit diz 'at e'en mean?!"  
  
Priorities reshuffled themselves. He had to check to see if that was real, he had to ask if anyone else had seen that, he had to wake up, he had to do  _something_. What button had he pressed to get that to work?  _Split? Reset? Come on, there are only four buttons, how is this hard?!_  
"Weel, ur ye gonna answer me ur jist fiddle aro-"  
A beep, then silence again. It was Stop/Start, the one on the top right. Of course.  
  
This time, he didn't just stand there. He could talk and look around in this state. Could he move his feet? Stretch ankle, bend knee. Yes, he could.  
Could he move from this spot? One step towards the huddle, two, arrival. Yes, he could, but the grass didn't bend under his feet, which felt off. Would he even leave a sign that he had moved at all?  
How far did this reach out? He looked back at the asylum. A proper fire-fighting team had arrived by now, and the embers were dying down around the building and the four tall trees outside. Yet another fire extinguisher was spraying foam at the base of the flames, but the foam hung as a skid in the air, clearly in motion and yet equally clearly not moving. The fire and smoke were in this in-between too, trapped in a single frame. If before had been a photo, this was more like an instant replay or a slow-mo shot in a movie shown on one of those 3D TVs.  
  
That would definitely be something to tell Max about. If he would even know where to look for him now that the place was...  
  
"-ond wi' 'at ti--"  
Dolly's voice cut in, then back out, as time and the skid restarted. "The hell?" she sputtered, and a wind once again picked up, fortunately with no heat or cold to be felt. "How'd ye do 'at?!"  
Oh yeah. Shifting from behind one tree trunk to another in a nanosecond probably looked really strange to the others. He turned to them; they looked just as confused as she did.  
  
"Uh... I'm not really sure how to explain?" Even as the words left his mouth, he knew they sounded weak.  
"Dub, 'main 'en," Dolly scoffed to prove it, "there's got tae be a way ay explainin' ye gonnae frae ower thaur tae ower haur jist loch 'at!"  
"No, for real, I can't," he insisted. "I only just found out about it myself, so how would I-?"  
"Wait. Ye only jist..."  
  
She trailed off, glanced at his timer, back up at him, and Dub thought he could see the metaphorical cogs turning in her mind.  
Eventually, she spoke again: "Ye mean yoo've got powers efter aw? Lilo-level powers?"  
"Sort of, but not exactly like Li-- I told you, it's hard to explain."  
  
"Weel 'en, shaw me insteid!" Like a force of nature, she pushed him back to where he had been with a headbutt to the chest, nearly landing right on top of him for her trouble. "Dae 'at again an' shaw me hoo ye did it! Is 'at wa ye waur meddlin' wi' 'at clock ay yoors?"  
It was almost amazing how much Dolly could say if she was firmly with or against something. From speech to silence to an onslaught of questions. How had he missed her speaking English for that long?  
"How didne ye fin' it sooner, fur Steiff's sake? Ah kent he wasnae onie cop as a--"  
"Dolly, do you want a demo or not?!"  
  
She finally shut up, her front hooves on his shoulders, and at a press of the button the world fell into a new stillness. He prepared himself to try and shove off a giant unmoving carcass, but she slid herself away first; she'd managed to not freeze up with it this time. He could see her go through the same reactions he had as they moved back to standing: confusion, shock, amazement...  
Would he ever get past the third?  
  
"...so ye jist press a button an'... thes happens?" she said, a lot quieter now, and a little awestruck.  
"I guess so, yeah. 30 seconds pass here and none out there. I think."  
"An' I cam wi' ye when Ah was-?"  
"Touching me? I reckon."  
  
"...Dub, ye little sneak." Her voice lifted in an almost-smile, and there was an added hint of movement and green to the grass at her feet. "Ah see whit yoo're doing."  
"...wha?"  
"Ha, dornt teel me ye dornt see whit yoo're doin'."  
"Uh, no? I told you, I didn't know about this until about a minute ago. Two, tops." Fittingly, the countdown stopped a third time, and with it an odd sense of fatigue began to crawl up him. Was the timer using his energy to power whatever it was doing? Every time he tried to answer questions, he just raised more of them.  
  
At least Dolly seemed to know something he didn't: "'at Wood called ye 'home support' before, didne he? Nobody kent abit whit ye jist did, so he pit ye as his yes-man. Ur yes-turtle, Ah s'pose. But obvioosly noo he's out ay th' picture..."  
  
"Huh, wonder why," Dub said without thinking.  
Dolly flinched and her tone became clipped. "Haud yer wheesht, Aam makin' a point."  
In lieu of holding a non-existent wheesht, he held his tongue instead.  
  
"Anyway. He's gain aff tae wherever, an' 'at means he doesnae ken abit 'at time-stop ye did thaur, deliberate oan yer part or nae. An' 'at means..." Yes, the grass was definitely greener on this more triumphant side of Dolly. "'at means  _we cood hae th' advantage!_ "  
"Could- Advantage over what?"  
"Honestly, Dub, dae Ah hae to speel everyt'in' oot fur ye? If we ever hae t' get intae a fight wi' thes bloke, ye can be th' ace up uir sleeve, an' we actually hae somewhit ay a chance. Noo ur ye gettin' it?"  
  
Truth be told, no he wasn't. That could have been due to the blur in his head (the testing of his timer had really taken something out of him), or due to the fact that...well, the group was only a day old, and now she was talking as if she knew for a fact there would be a confrontation? Let alone that anyone wanted it?  
But he didn't argue. There was no reason to get her angry again. He just nodded, only half-listening to the rest of her spiel before Sly thankfully cut into the middle of it and distracted her.  
  
When he'd woken up, he'd had a place to sleep, a rope, a position and no powers. Now in the space of a different half-hour, he had lost the first three and gained the fourth, plus a desire to get out of here before this got any more bizarre.  
Dub may have liked it when a whole lot of everything happened at once, but even he needed some time to flop down and let it all digest.  
So he did. Right now he'd take what peace he could get.


	3. Abusus Non Tollit Usum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter theme** :  adjustment  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Waldeinsamkeit - Desiderium](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bfKux8d3mk)  
>  _Originally published on July 27th 2012_

Those who say the life of a psychology expert is comprised mostly of working with papers and problems have never had to take refuge in the thick of the bushes. While most psychologists don't often do so, even for the most naturalistic of observation studies, there are some exceptions to this rule, albeit small in size and willing to cope with the intrusion of branches into the skin.  
Dr Wood was small enough to be an exception, but not quite sufficiently prepared for the roughness of it all. Then, who would be?  
  
Doctor... he had worked for three solid years to earn that title, and the respect that comes with it. He had started at the bottom of every possible chain (food, reputation, pecking order) and climbed his way up. Into fame and infamy, into the shadow of Kindermann and out of it, into the backbone of the Psychiatric Clinic for Abused Cuddly Toys.  
  
But the spine had been ripped out, and the clinic lay charred in front of him.  
  
The fire had spread far beyond the patient lounge, it seemed. One of the front doors, doubled-up, had swung inwards and remained stuck. The lower floor windows were caked in soot, as were the wooden walls, and a ring of burnt grass circled around the perimeter. The inside of the nurse's station, the first room one walked in and out of, echoed its outside; even from so far away, from behind his hood, he could guess the yellow and blue wallpaper had been scorched. The information board, the Arztebuch, all the postcards so meticulously collected and organized by Nadel, the security TV - all were nowhere to be seen.  
The upper floor looked relatively untouched, but he'd never had reason or permission to go up there. None of them had.  
  
The National Park Centre that hid it from view of the rest of the world erupted into action that borderline-evening, exploding with people either brave or reckless enough to try and tackle the rising blaze about which he warned them. Their efforts had clearly prevented its escalation into the protected forest, but the place that had been his work station, his sleeping quarters, his partial livelihood, was nonetheless too burnt to risk stepping back inside.  
That was why he was in the bush, despite its scratchy leaves and sticks. If he stepped out to take a true lingering look at how much of the place was laced with carbon dust, to seek the postcards and his suitcase under the couch and the picture of Sigmund Freud... only to find them damaged, or worse, gone... he would most likely never come out again.  
A counterproductive deed at best when its inhabitants weren't in there either.  
  
That same home of heroes then became his refuge. He slept the rest of the night in the main hall, troubled once again by the dream with the ocean and the plush hippo, with added blistering heat. Then, when some curious admirers asked what he would do now, he merely stated he would seek out the others, then they would go somewhere else. Yet when preparing to do the former, his feet followed the road in the more instinctual direction, and "somewhere else" became "back here".  
  
A doctor is no doctor without patients, or a workstation, or colleagues. Could the benefits he'd scraped together for so long really be blown away so easily, like an old life on a wind?  
  
The distant clump of footsteps from behind him shook him out of his reverie. Someone was coming. He shrank down even more into the bush, sitting on his notebook (a small mercy that it had escaped with him, with only some mild singeing to show for it), out of sight of anyone wanting to desecrate his building still further.  
The sound approached at a fast pace, ringing more to his left as it got closer and louder. Only when a voice accompanied it, a resonant and familiar voice, could he suppress at least one of his concerns.  
  
Nadel.  
  
"[...isn't true,]" her troubled and panting words floated to him, "[it can't be true, please let it be a joke...]" Had she only now seen the evidence for herself, with no external influence? Or had she been told of the accidental arson from the nearby source?  
  
 _[Come to think of it, what do they think caused it?]_ he wondered. They knew very little of Dolly or the others, and nothing at all of the influx of superpowers - justifiably so. "[An angry sheep burned down the place]" makes for an unconvincing excuse at best without coherent proof.  
Briefly, the words she had yelled at him in her Scottish brogue came floating back to him. But he dismissed them. She had been in the minority; Dub had proven it. He could still worm his way back into the group once he caught up with them...  
  
Nadel rushed past his hiding place and emerged on the path in her distinctive white dress; it only took a second to stop her cold. "[Oh god, it  **is**  true,]" she said in shock, as it dawned on her that the burnt building was not, in fact, an elaborate prank or hallucination. More footsteps, taking her distraught utterances further out of earshot and view - "Nein nein nein  **nein**... [first Spieler, now this... this week keeps getting worse and...]" - until she disappeared through the jammed-open door.  
  
One fragment of Wood's brain whispered,  _[follow her, talk to her]_. The rest overwhelmed it with common sense.  
One of the first decisions he had made two days before was to tell the nurse of their newfound abilities as soon as she got back. But now that she was actually here, the idea felt hollow, ridiculous even. How would she take it on top of everything else? How  _could_  she believe it, even with proof hypothetically levitating at face level? Wood wouldn't have believed it himself had he not been the instigator and witness.  
(Would humans even be able to see his projections? He had had less testing time than the others before this disaster; there were far too many variables and grey areas he hadn't yet clarified.)  
  
And besides, he would do no good in the areas that mattered in this scenario. Calculations of cost of restoration and reassurances that his theories were safe did nothing when five other toys were missing in action.  
  
She, apparently, had had the same thoughts - she came out of the building a minute or two later appearing somewhat more at ease. "[Okay, at least the patients are out safe. Wood is taking care of them. Where, I don't know, but that's okay, at least he's taking care of them, he  **has**  to be,]" she repeated to herself, her voice calmer too.  
Persisting in her optimism even here... no matter how (currently) misguided.  
"[Kindermann,]" she shouted abruptly. "[I have to get his details again, I have to phone him. If anyone will know what to do, it's him.]" Then, before the doctor could decide anything else, she was running again, and she was past him, and she was gone.  
  
Something told him she would not be returning for the rest of the day. So when it was safe, he re-emerged from the bushes, brushing away any branch-induced blemishes, and set out to find the missing toys.  
  
 _[I shouldn't worry about Nadel. She thinks the others are with me, not against me. I'll let her think that._  
 _[I'll let her keep the illusion.]_  
  
\---------------  
  
The five had not made their way to the park centre between the awakening and now. That meant - logically speaking, anyway - that they hadn't left the direct proximity of the remains of the asylum. They might have been lost without him or a human, Wood rationalized to himself, but they still had sense enough to stay away from the roads. (When the inevitable seed of doubt arose, he shook out the image of Sly crushed under a moving tire as quickly as it had appeared. He did  **not**  need that thought to haunt him in the day.)  
There was one place left to search, then: the forest. Unfortunately, the task was much easier said than done. Most trees tend to look the same when stacked against and blocking each other, and this section of Jasmund National Park was a large and foreboding place filled with all too many of them. Size had come to Wood's advantage in the bush; now it worked against him, mixing up green and blue and brown and threatening to render him hopelessly lost.  
  
Yet he kept on walking in and out of the lights and shadows in search of life. He hunted for footprints and for clues left by the less inconspicuous of the powers, the remnants of puddles and patches of excess grass and long grooves left by the electric snake. Occasionally cracks made him look around, but rather than hints of static or lightning from the sheep, they were twigs crushed underfoot.  
In this circumstance, there was no room for error. The toys had to be found, and the connection between doctor and patients had to be remade, dirt and grit on his soles be damned.  
  
After what seemed like fifteen minutes of walking untrodden paths, he heard a crackling sound off to his right. Far too loud to be a twig this time. He briskly followed the sound, arriving next to a particularly thick cluster of trees. Light streamed through just enough so that he could see fresh scorch marks circling around the bark near the bottom. Fire, or...?  
Then the sound and its source re-appeared, much louder and closer and just as fast, and Wood found himself within walking distance of Sly, wrapped around another one of the trunks.  
  
"[Sly, did you even hear what I just said?]" another voice intruded, sounding cranky and resigned at the same time. Dolly's.  
 _[Finally, some good fortune.]_  
  
The snake managed to unknot himself, not even seeing the raven when he spun his head in that direction. "[Something about running into trees, right?]" he called back.  
"[Try something about  **not**  running into trees.]"  
"[Well, I got most of it good!]"  
  
He slithered through the shrubbery and disappeared, static rising and falling as he went. Wood was half inclined to follow and reveal himself when her next statement stopped him: "[For the love of Beanie Babies, do you  _want_  to make him come after us? Because if so, you're doing a good job.]"  
 _[Definitely not willing to accept me back into the group, then,]_  he sighed in his mind. He'd supposed that was inevitable, but having it said aloud still put a spanner in his plans.  
  
Especially when Sly inadvertently confirmed it: "[Um... is doing a good job at that a bad thing?]"  
"[Yes! You've been  **told**  this!]" Something rumbled, deep and low, like a thunderclap.  
"[Don't rain, Dolly, I'm trying!]"  
  
"[Well, try a little harder.]" Crunching of leaves. Was she backing off? Good. "[We're lost enough as it is. Losing track of you because you decide to go slamming into the trees won't make it any easier.]"  
"[I don't think I can help that. The trees just appear everywhere everywhere when I try to make sparks fast. They pop up and I hit my branch, my head I mean.]"  
"[But how hard is it to just... not run around like your tail's on fire?]"  
  
There was an uncomfortable pause before Sly turned the conversation around. "[I'm grumbly. Why didn't we eat breakfast?]"  
"[I'm not re-explaining that to you too, Sly.]"  
  
Then Wood heard some more bending of branches as Dolly apparently crashed through the brush, away from the two of them. The other quickly followed, beginning to say something about "[really yummy oatmeal]".  
  
 _[...but we've never served oatmeal in the time **I've**  been here. Or food, for that matter.]_  
  
No. Confusion over non-existent breakfast was but a blip in the outlook. This was progress, very good progress. If Dolly and Sly had been found, that had to mean Kroko, Lilo and Dub were nearby, and if all of the toys were in one place...  
Yes, he wouldn't be able to get back in right now; her stubbornness had seen to that. But at least he would have an idea of where to find them or how best to look for them when she would be more accepting. Just three more patients and some more time, and his future would be secured.  
  
To task. The two of them had gone straight ahead, so Wood pressed on to his north-west, tracking the path of the two. Slow steps, quiet steps, blending into the shade, keeping out of the way.  
He'd had to do lots of eavesdropping today. Passive in his activity... when he got back in, he'd be more hands on. He'd be vital to their survival.  _[Just you wait.]_  
  
He had only followed them for about forty-five seconds when Sly, still fixating on the idea of oatmeal, audibly stopped in his tracks. "[I'm not saying you're a silly, I'm  **saying**  we had at least one. Lilo, you can back me up? ...Um, Lilo?]"  
"[Oh goddammit. Could someone go get Lilo please?]"  
  
"[I'll do it,]" a new voice broke in, and a pointed but bulbuous shadow swept above Wood's head in the opposite direction. Presumably Kroko's. He must have been doing some mid-bough surveillance above the others, he guessed. He quickly doubled back to pursue.  
  
Once again, the journey was short, for no sooner had Kroko set off than he'd landed, pretty inelegantly judging by the dual thuds. On the positive side, it gave Wood ample time to duck into yet another bush.  
"[Ow. Oh, there you are, Lilo. Are you coming?]"  
Silence in return, apart from a clicking sound. Obviously the hippo had not become a master wordsmith like himself in his absence.  
"[Lilo, can you get up? Sly's worried about you,]" Kroko persisted, but the clicking only increased in return. "[Lilo, please. Put the blocks down and let's--]"  
  
Wood barely just managed to remain in the bush, practically pushed out by a fierce invisible force. A squeaking Kroko didn't sound so lucky. More rustling, a snapped twig.  
"[No,]" he said weakly, "[not back to back. Just... down.]"  
  
After a pause, the clicking resumed.  
"[Come  **on** , Lilo, we have to go!]" The tone became shrill, almost hurting the ears to hear. "[Dolly says we're really lost, and if you get lost on your own it's going to get even worse.]"  
Nothing in reply, no sound of movement.  
  
The raven took a deep breath and a gamble simultaneously, and risked moving some of the leaves aside to get a better look at the situation. Lilo was clinging to his blocks for dear life, looking up at the skies, while Kroko, blanket in one hand, had moved directly in front of him to make him focus.  
Neither of the two spotted him, or even looked his way.  
  
"[Look. Think of it like this. Remember last night when we were all sleeping in really uncomfortable spots?]" he explained, calmer now, with all the gentleness of Spieler herself at times. "[We have to get out of here so that doesn't happen again. Dolly can't sleep in the grass because it can get on fire, and I can't sleep where it's all wet-]" An involuntary shiver shook his body at the thought of that. "[-so we need to get good places to sleep.]"  
 _[Hm. What was that English idiom involving haystacks?]_  Wood asked himself.  
"[And if we can get out of the forest, we can get that. But we can't go anywhere if you sit down and ignore us, do you see?]" He tapped his claws together, tap tap. "[Because we have to wait for you, and that makes everyone upset and angry, and then it'll be yesterday all over again. You don't want that, do you?]"  
  
Lilo, at least, seemed to grasp part of this explanation; he still made no effort to stand up, but he did look down and put his arms by his sides, and the blocks by extension.  
"[Okay, that's good. You're listening. I think.]" Kroko looked more relieved now, but his voice was no less high. "[Lilo, I know this is new and scary. I feel it too. We're all scared, and we want to go home. But we can't, so we have to keep going to find somewhere else. If Dr Wood is following us, we can't stay here.]"  
  
The branches around Wood became far too sharp after that sentence, the leaves too small, every subtle movement too large. Had Kroko suspected something? Could he see him? No, he couldn't, they were looking away, but would he turn around, when? Had they thought this a possibility all along? Should he move back and risk the rustling catching their attention? Should he stay exposed? Could he project some cover - no, he couldn't, they had to be looking, too little time? What to do?  
"[I haven't spotted him yet, so I don't think he is,]" the crocodile carried on. "[But you heard, she said not to take that chance, and if you stay here longer he could catch--]"  
  
 _Cracklecrackle_ **CRASH**.  
"[Hang on. Are you okay, Sly? That looked like it hurt.]"  
  
The snake, by coincidence or miracle, had sped right through and embedded himself into the scenery, this time face-planting on a tree stump. Their focuses had diverted, Kroko's to the newcomer and Lilo's back to the puzzle, so Wood wasted no time in darting his head back into the foliage.  
"[I'm - ih - yes. Dolly says "what's taking them so long and can they hurry up please Dub's itchy to get a move on". Or something.]"  
"[Ah, okay. Sorry.]" Then, "[Let's go, Lilo]", a cacophany of retreating noise, and then relative silence.  
  
 _[In the bush, out of the bush... I can't imagine what my hood must look like now,]_  thought Dr Wood as he re-emerged. Still, it was a small price to pay - all five toys had been confirmed together and safe. Though not quite unified, together nonetheless, and trying their best to survive out here. Failing, but not out of giving up.  
  
...Now, the only thing left to deal with was Wood himself.  
  
\---------------  
  
This, he'd decided, was the very definition of an impasse. He could neither go forward to a group that did not want him yet, nor could he go back to the building Kroko had called home. So the only place to go from here was up, and he was now surveying a different patch of green from the halfway point of a particularly tall tree. He hadn't come across any hibernating squirrels or sleeping birds on the way up, fortunately, and even if he had there wouldn't have been much they could have done about the situation.  
  
There was no way of telling the time: it was getting dark, so it was either afternoon or night, and that was all that could be determined about the matter. His notebook rested against the trunk while he sat on the branch, feet and hood cleaned of all the bark and debris. Leaves rustled in the breeze, far bigger but slighter than Dolly's had been, and he pulled his head closer to his chest for warmth. Few humans would go into the park itself at this time of year, if any, so no one could thrust him into conversation that he both did and didn't need.  
  
Yet he could not relish the  _waldeinsamkeit_. There was too much to think of, to consider.  
  
The five patients. They seemed to be completely bewildered in or out of the clinic. True, he had never seen them communicate to each other so much before, but communication did not necessarily involve understanding. If anyone lacked the latter, Sly and Lilo did. Besides, they had remained in here for probably one whole day with no way of escape. He, at least, knew which way the facsimile of the asylum was... even if it took looking around for a minute to re-orient himself.  
They needed someone to show them out of the forest, into a place where they could truly become a unit. Wood could have  **been**  that someone.  
But they - she - still persisted in running away from him. In claiming not to need him. Just because of one mistake on either side.  
  
And now Wood was a doctor with nothing to qualify him as such but a title and knowledge in his head he couldn't apply to this quiet piece of nature.  
 _[How degrading.]_  
  
This could not last.  
He had to give them time to realize how stranded they really were without a proper authority figure, a guide. He had to step back inside. He had to regain their acceptance.  
And to do so, he had to admit... and in this thought, he admitted as much to himself... that he needed them as much as they needed him.  
  
But what for? Even with patients, he had no clinic and no medical equipment. So he couldn't need them simply as beings to take care of, even if he told them so at first.  
And what would they do once reunited?  
  
The second question was answered more easily. He would do as he said at the beginning and help them hone their powers. He would retake Dub under his wing, an easy task if his silence was any indication. He would stop Dolly from setting anything else alight and Sly from crashing into the world around him.  
By the time that was done, hopefully the asylum would be restored and Nadel would be back. If not, they would have to go elsewhere. Either way, he would serve not as medical staff, but as leader. As he was meant to be from the start.  
  
And then the group, perhaps, would grow.  
His mind wandered away with the idea, picturing just one more toy, non-powered, amongst the six. Then another one, three more, five, many, a whole menagerie. Teddy bears and tiny birds and creatures of every configuration, beings he had worked with before and beings he had never yet dealt with, surrounding them.  
Kroko and Lilo and Dolly and Sly and Dub in front of them, staring up in wonder.  
Up at Dr Wood, looking down upon them all, upon those he had collected. Casting them in light.  
  
Before, he had merely represented plushies, in Germany and the world over. If this vision came to pass, he would protect them too. He would heal them, differently to how he had before. They would worship him and the others.  
And he would be their...  
  
 _[No.]_  He reined himself back in, looking at something definite, a knothole in the trunk opposite.  _[It doesn't do to dwell on something I might not even achieve. I have to focus on the now, at latest tomorrow.]_  
  
...and yet, that mental image - they, the followers, and he, the... it had come so easily to him... fit so naturally...  
 _[No.]_  
It would be foolish not to set out with a long term goal... Small steps to justify bigger means...  
 _[ **No...** ]_  
  
But would it really be so bad to imagine? To dream?  
Dreams had gotten him here, after all.  
  
 _[...All right. A 10% possibility. Nothing more.]_  
  
There. His course of action was settled, his fantasy sated. He would sit here a while longer, and give them until morning's emergence. Then he would return to them and make his deal clear: he needed them, and they him.  
He spent the rest of his waking hours up in that tree, going over his notes one more time. Sketching his argument, a lecture of sorts, just like the old days. An afternoon of planning. An afternoon of hoping.  
  
The image - they inferior, he superior - lingered in the back of his mind. And by the time the moon's light stretched across the land and he had to sleep, he had gotten almost used to it.  
  
He dreamt, once more, of the ocean. Lilo had vanished. This time, he pushed the couch in himself, leaping onto it at the last second before it left the shore. The heat was gone, yet not, moved to the distance, a sunset.  
  
Or a rising star?


	4. Graviora Manent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter theme** :  weakness  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Blinded by Light - Masashi Hamauzu](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfu0XBf8kmk)  
>  _Originally published on August 3rd 2012_

Dawn had broken late over Germany, the second the patients had actually been outside to potentially see. To most, the sight of a sky being gradually tinted orange and red and grey in a blurry gradient as the sun rose higher and higher, chasing the errant moon further down after it, would be pretty at worst, awe-inspiring at best. (Especially on this particular day...) In fact, Dr Wood had been just barely awake enough to appreciate the beauty of the scenario before dozing back off.  
  
Not that he could drift in this between-state for longer than a while. The sun reminded him of this by glaring into him, cold and intense, until he shook himself awake and carefully made his way down the tree, following his notebook, gently dropped from limb to limb.  
  
He had his plan; he knew how to carry it out. He had time to search for the others, and the ability to catch up to them. He had a goal, a vision to aim for.  
  
It was time.  
  
****  
  
Just minutes earlier, in a different part of the forest, the other five all woke nearly-simultaneously. They did so with a single thought, and it wasn't anything to do with Wood, plans or the now cloud-strewn morning sky.  
  
 _[I am never complaining about the lumpy beds back there **ever again**.]_  
  
Well, for Sly it was more like  _[I am never complaining about the pebblebed why is everything upside?]_ , but the sentiment was still there.  
  
And true. The nighttime arrangements of the asylum had never exactly been "king-sized beds with one extra thick duvet each", but after roughing it out in the forest around them for two nights in a row, thin scratchy sheets and merely adequate pillows were starting to look like a step-up. The snake had actually gotten the best night's sleep, wrapped in a spiral around a long thick tree branch, but even the end result of that was catching up to him fast. The rest had had to make do with being almost unconscious on the ground: Dub in a small hole in the soil; Lilo at the bottom of the tree; Kroko under the baby blue blanket to unsuccessfully hide away from any passing insects ("[ _ewww_  there's a bug on my eye get it off get it off]"); and Dolly on a large rock with an edge that dug into her no matter which side she rested on. A tiny hailstone or two still fell every time she adjusted herself, even when the sleepy smoke had long passed.  
So until they had genuine energy as opposed to the groggy awareness one usually gets after a night in the sticks, they were rather reluctant to move from that spot. And genuine energy seemed to be taking its time.  
  
"[I kinda like it here, tail,]" Sly said at one point, possibly to lighten the mood. "[It's outsidey, and I haven't had that since a while. I don't think so. It's hard to remember sometimes.]" He then spent a good five minutes trying to figure out the last time he had been outside. Out loud. To his tail. By the time Dolly snarled at him to shut him up, any sense of goodwill the statement had brought had long since been lost.  
  
This was mostly because the dawn had broken into a morning dull and cold, making outside even more unappealing. The light around them was patchy, with no specific tint, and even the multicoloured leaves looked greyscale, monotone. And a fire might have been devastating and not very good for the forest in the long term, but at least it would change the lighting and keep them warm. Who would want to move at all on a morning as frozen as this?  
So there they sat, losing themselves in solitary thoughts that, when left unvoiced, they could all understand equally.  
  
And gradually, the hailstones and the bite in the air began to drop, petering out before disappearing altogether. The sun rose higher, and its light chased the dullness away, and the world around them gained more vitality and vibrancy and green. The toys became warmer and more alert, and the need to leave crept back in... albeit without the impetus. "[Um, we should probably go,]" Kroko pointed out every so often, and yet no one else seemed in a hurry to. They didn't relax, but nor did they move.  
Perhaps, deep down, they knew they were lost no matter which direction they went, and it was their way of delaying the inevitable. Or they just didn't want anyone to be left behind.  
  
It was only when Dub started bouncing irritatedly on his heels and pacing the area that they felt it best to at least prepare to get a move on. Sly unwound himself from his branch at the news, and Kroko, in a rush of relief, took back to the skies. One foot in the air, four feet... seven seemed to be the highest he could go without having to land on the lowest branch that could support his weight, not nearly far up enough to see the whole forest. But that was high enough for him. To get real air under his wings, to watch the world go by...  
  
...and to see a different shade of blue somewhere in the distance. A small patch, moving.  
  
He paused, confused, and without thinking or warning his eyes refocused to take a closer look at the colour, at everything, sharpening and brighter than before, catching him off guard. His vision had been a little better yesterday, in the dark, but now? So much visual, so much to see now the light was better and he was looking closer from far away, fragments of twigs, a hole in a leaf, upturned soil dry and crumbly...  
Was this how real eagles saw the world?  
No, no distractions for Kroko, he looked back at the moving object. Yes, it was definitely a different blue to the leaves and bushes, beak-shaped, surrounded by a hood of...  
  
 _[Oh no.]_  
  
"[Whatcha doing, Kroko?]" Sly popped up in front of him, nearly throwing him off the branch and back to the ground. Multiple blinks, re-adjusting, so he couldn't see every woven smooth fibre of his face up so close. "[Something up?]"  
"[Sh, Sly. I think we're--]"  
"[What's up with your eyes? They're wide and size-changing. It's creepy,]" said the snake with the constantly dilating and constricting pupils.  
  
Kroko just brushed him off and quickly flapped in the opposite direction over the heads of the others in an attempt to get away from the enemy  _enemy_  Dolly had warned them about this...  
"[Kroko, wait for all of us?]" Sly persisted.  
  
"[Can't, Dr Wood's coming, if we're going to go we'd better do it the other way and  _hurry_!]"  
  
It was like a switch had been flicked - stillness became movement and fear and agitation as everyone fled. Sly slithered out to the front in a blur of sparks and neon colour, Kroko flapped and flapped as fast as he could until his arms ached, equally-electric Dolly and grippy Lilo behind, Dub catching up after a few seconds and trying to get ahead, Kroko couldn't stay afloat anymore so he dropped down and ran too, branches and bushes and everything looked so tall from down here but they had to run get away turn the corner go move  **run!**  
  
Until they could run no more. "[Okay... think it's safe to stop now,]" he heard from behind, Dolly or Sly? Might have been Sly, since it sounded pressed against something again, but he couldn't tell; his heart was pounding in his head too loud, and his arms were sore. He was definitely meant to fly high, not fast.  
 _[But at least we're away now, and safe with our stuff and...]_  
  
Not quite. Something felt missing. He looked left, right. Trees, another rock, blocks and timers, but...  
 _[Where's my blanket?!]_  
The panic that had been quietening down returned with a vengeance. In all the fear and confusion he'd left his blanket behind, he had to go get it back! Without the blanket and the flight together he'd be surrounded by insects and eyes, no not the eyes again, he couldn't handle any more eyes no no!!  
  
"[I believe you forgot this,]" another voice broke in, once again calming him down.  
"[Good, thank you,]" he managed to get out, turning to see his blanket resting by a thicket, pointed out by an emerging...  
  
Crap. Dr Wood again.  
"[I-- how -- how did you catch up? Have you got fast running powers? Flying ones?]"  
"[No and no,]" said the raven, gently pushing the blanket closer to him. "[I haven't moved from this area since I arrived. You all left, and then you returned. Rather counterintuitive.]"  
  
...Oh. They'd gone in a circle then. No wonder that rock looked familiar. He flopped onto the blanket to make himself feel less stupid, but the itch of dirt on it mocked him.  
  
"[As silly as that was, I do have to commend you,]" Wood continued, stepping closer. "[In doing so, you all managed to prove my argument twice over without my even  **saying**  anything. Perhaps it'll be easier than I expected.]"  
"[What argument? What do you want?]"  
"[The same thing I wanted before, Kroko. My rightful place as leader of this group.]"  
  
Dolly was, by this time, back on the rock with the too-sharp edge. The familiar overwhelming fury, having rested since the fire, rose up in a fierce wave of hot air. She didn't even try to resist it. Its target deserved her anger at his audacity.  
"Yoo're nae gettin' back in th' crew, Wood. Shove aff," she spat at him, forgetting herself.  
  
"[Now now, Dolly. I made my request in German, it's only fair you respond in German,]" he chastised.  
"Dornt patronize me. Ye ken whit aam sayin' nae matter hoo Ah say it."  
  
Wood made to speak again, but a different voice talked over him: "Not all of us have that luxury, you know!"  
After a few slips, she floundered her way around to find Dub leaning against a tree (not the same one that Sly was hopelessly tangled around) with his arms folded. "Look, I'm sorry," he continued tensely, "I don't wanna sound like I'm thick as a brick, but you keep leaving me out of these conversations and I have no idea what anyone's saying! Why did we even run around a few minutes ago? Anyone telling me that, huh?"  
  
"Honestly, Dub! Ah cannae sit aroond translatin' everythin' anyain says fur ye! We'd tak' twice as lang tae dae anythin'!"  
Wood stepped between them, having followed her path. "Therefore, a third reason of many to re-induct me into this unit. You're right, translation is a time-consuming process. With me as leader, I can take on the task on your behalf, and Dub won't feel as "thick as a brick", as he put it."  
"See? That took three sentences to explain, Dolly, it's not that hard." Dub pushed himself off the trunk and sat down in the grass, looking ten times more satisfied.  
  
"Aw reit, aw reit. Sae that's, whit, one reason tae lit ye back in?" Dolly snapped.  
  
"Of several, if you'll let me finish. [Kroko - ]" The crocodile looked back up at the mention of his name. "[Would you like to get out of this forest?]"  
"[Yes, yes please!]" he said. "[I don't want to sleep on dirt anymore.]" He rubbed one of his eyes reflexively.  
"[I'm sure Sly and Lilo feel the same, yes?]"  
One very slight nod and a "Ja ja". (Sly had managed to extract himself from the tree. Had he really learnt nothing?)  
  
"[And I can give you that. Of all six of us, I'm the most certain of the way out of here. I can lead all of you into light, into shelter from insects and rain.]" Kroko perked up again at that. "[Into a place where you can hone your abilities, perfect them, under my watch.] To get shelter and training," he elaborated before Dub could protest, "isn't that what you want?"  
Dolly tried to butt in. "Aye, but we can fin' 'at oan uir--"  
  
"[As much as you might want to escape it, you were in a mental institution two days ago. Do you really think any of you have the...  _capacity_  to find a way out by yourselves?]"  
  
"[...Damn you and your good points.]"  
The air around her calmed itself, evened out, and her eyelids stopped hurting from her glare.  
  
The beginnings of a grin appeared in Wood's demeanor. "[I'm glad you agree, Dolly. Face it: without me, the five of you are unfocused, directionless. Let me back in, and I can guide you.]" He moved back near the bush, to face everyone, see their enraptured expressions, their gazing eyes. "[Let me be your compass. Let me rescue you and bring you together. And then we can face the world as one, and the recruitment can begin.]"  
  
"...[Recruitment for what?]"  
  
Sly's disarming question split the mood, bringing silence and tenseness again. Most eye-contact broke, the grin left.  
Wood had said too much.  
  
"[Nothing important right now,]" he said evasively, hoping that would be enough.  
  
But Kroko had caught on too: "[Yes it is. What are we recruiting? We're the only ones with powers, right?]"  
"[Did you make more so we could be bigger, bigger, bigger?]" Sly guessed.  
  
"[You're... half-right.]" Would surrendering a minor detail hurt his argument so much? "[I won't make more - I can't - but we will get bigger. But it's nothing for you to worry about until--]"  
  
"[Why?]"  
"[Because you don't need any more worry than you already have, do you, Kroko?]"  
"[I meant why are we getting bigger?]" the other asked. "[There's already five of us, six with you. What can they do to help? They can't fly.]"  
"[My long term goals for my group are no concern of yours.]"  
  
"[Why not? You're trying to get into us, we're not trying to get with you,]" Dolly growled. "[I think we have a right to know what you want to do with us.]"  
Wood put the notebook down, irritatedly. "[Dolly, did I or did I not just say--]"  
"[Yes, okay,  _we were asylum patients_.]" She put on a mocking tone for the echo. "[I get it. But we're not total idiots. ...Well, most of us aren't total idiots.]" Her eyes flitted to Lilo and Sly briefly, then back again. "[If you're going to cover things up like that, why should we believe you won't take advantage of us? Why should we believe in  _you_?]"  
  
"[She has a point, you know,]" the crocodile agreed, and in that moment the raven wanted to curse Sly for even slithering his tongue.  
  
"[Isn't "I can get you out of here" good enough for you?]"  
  
Dolly leapt down into Wood's direct view now, once again lapsing back into her natural tongue. " **Nae**  if yoo're gonnae use us as--"  
"[Dolly, get back on the rock!]" Kroko cried. Ah, right. Flames were beginning to eat the grass, not a good move.  
"--use us as yer ain personal army ance we dae gie out ur some shit," she said, nonetheless bounding back onto the rock. Dub scrambled over to cover up the few blades that had gotten caught alight with dirt to quench the fire.  
"[You don't know that's what I'm going to--]"  
"Nae, Ah dornt. An' aam nae gonna tak' 'at chance if I ken what's guid fur me- fur us."  
  
" _Dolly? Gift horse? Mouth?_ " said the turtle from below, in an attempt at sotto voce. "Do you want us outta here or not?"  
"Frankly, Dub, eh'd raither wander lost aroond thes place oan mah ain fur th' rest ay mah life than gie intae somethin' we cannae troost. At leest 'en Ah ken what's gonna happen tae us, an' there's nae fancy-pants vagueness frae th' quack ower thaur. Sae," she finished, returning into that glaring state of mind, "aam gonnae teel ye whit I tauld ye befair, Wood. SHOVE. OFF."  
  
A new silence ricocheted through the air, and nobody moved for at least ten seconds. Plans, futures and expectations on both sides silently balled themselves up, smaller, smaller, disappearing into the rising morning.  
  
"...'Fancy-pants vagueness', Dolly?" Much to her slowly extinguishing surprise, a chuckle from the raven, the kind of laughter that rang of taking a risk. "Oh ye of little logic, oh ye of little faith. [If you want specifics of what siding with me will bring, I will  **give**  you specifics!]"  
  
Backing away, eyes closed, wings clenched, then spread.  
Wood had never wanted to reveal this much of his hand in a single swoop. It was a reckless move, and deep down he suspected they knew it as well.  
But they had reacted too negatively.  _She_  had asked for this. Perhaps, with a clearer view, she would be more convinced.  
In the blackness, he could feel them. Five minds. One of his smallest, largest and most complicated audiences to date. Dub's nearest to him, a familiar presence, the one that had seen the first projection. This one would be more complex. It would be the persistent dream from the day before, given pseudo-reality, presence.  
  
This would be the true test of his powers, not cardboard boxes and muzzled dogs.  
  
He imagined again, as vivid as the leaves around him, the picture that had haunted him yesterday afternoon. He, above, on a pedestal. They surrounding him, and they themselves surrounded. His corporeal form hidden in whiteness as his ideal rose from him and up and up. Noises and words and sentences from the ghosts of other toys, thanking them all for saving them from this and that, praising them as heroes, saviours...  
Praising  _him_  as a...  
  
And as his hidden eyes flitted open, the minds were swamped with the visual, the audio, the dream, and it all came alive in the little clearing.  
  
The light became shaded with yellow and orange and blue, twisting out from he himself. Grass bent backwards and retreated into the dirt, dirtless, and became white, the ground dentless, bar the rock; the cleanness spread to the sky, locked them in. Oh so gradually, blackened silhouettes yawned and lived in the increasing light, first shaped like himself; then a shifted thought and they turned into other creatures, ferrets, rabbits, more snakes (much to Sly's delight, "[Snakes!]"), toys, all of them toys. He lost himself in shadow, the one impurity, rose. In the distance, murmuring voices, quiet then louder then omnipresent, "[thank you, thank you,] thank you", and then, on an impulse, a short improvised tune carrying in the air, music from nowhere. Light and song and talk and respect and calm, who wouldn't want these?  
He had to project a feeling too, a feeling that this was the ideal, a feeling that would soothe the rebellious thorny sheep and the turtle and the crocodile, calm them, make them want this to be real. The feeling took a physical form even as he thought of it, a ripple, spreading across and down, sweeping through them, from one side to the other, shaking them a bit; but was it really a feeling?  
Was this an actual wave of calm or just a visual representation? Tangible or not? Magic or science? Did the two coincide, clash? So much to learn, to know, so much unspoken.  
Not now. No doubt, no lapsing, no questions. Just his power, overwhelming them all. So much detail to visualize, so technical, so meticulous to view, such hard work and yet a result so perfect it was worth the concentration and thought, worth the seeping in, the intrusion into the four minds watching him, mesmerized by him, believing it and sinking into the...  
  
...Four?  
  
There, out of the corner, wandering to the opposite side of Kroko with puzzle pieces in hand, Lilo. Mind unclear, mind untapped. Oblivious.  
  
No no no. If this was to work, all of them had to believe. All of them had to  **be**  here. Was it just Lilo? Was there a latent mental shield within to match the physical?  
Redoubling efforts. Extra concentration, briefly back to black, to break through the shield, which was pierced surprisingly quickly, dropped like the blocks. He slipped in, brought him into the lights and noises and serenity, all flickering somewhat from the effort. No, no problem, Lilo was in, easily.  
  
"[Hey, where did snakes go? Where's everything?]"  
But Sly was out, pushed out, slipped out.  
  
No shield then. Perhaps a limit on how many his visions could affect? To further confirm this, he reached them back into the whirling freewheeling mind, making sure that Lilo's own buzzing brain stayed too... and with a fade out to match the fade in, Dolly was lost in the snake's stead.  
Four. Four was the maximum his dreams could hold. But five minds in front of him, one too many. One would always slip through the net--  
  
 **THUD**  
\--and one would always take advantage of that, especially if it was Dolly, having seized her chance and headbutted the real him into the dirt, thankfully more heat than fire. His back jarred, his grip on the new ideal world fell, and it all vanished in an instant, back into the muddled blues and greens and browns.  
Every remaining mind escaped.  
  
"[And just what was  _that_  supposed to prove, Wood?]" she asked, her voice low and quiet. "[Because I have to tell you, you did nothing to argue against the whole "personal army in your name" thing.]"  
  
He took a breath, pulled himself up. "[I'll take it you still aren't convinced.]"  
"[That it's worth siding with you? No, not really.]" She swivelled around on her hooves, to the others, turning her back on him. "[All right, now that we've indulged in a little light show, can someone tell Sly not to go looking for fake snakes so we can get a mov--]"  
  
With a hard shove, it was Dolly's turn to land firmly in the grass, muzzle-first, into her own returning hailstones. Wood had attacked back.  
  
"[I was polite, Dolly. I was reasonable,]" he said, rather calmly considering he was holding onto the scruff of Dolly's neck with one wing (but not calmly enough to hide the crackle of anger underneath). "[Remember, you forced me to go this far, you  **and** your irritating insubordination!]"  
  
He pulled her head up to slam it down again, to subdue, but everyone else had sprung into action already, swarming on top of the raven and sheep, piling onto him, splitting them, Kroko in particular screaming "[Get off of Dolly, don't hurt her!]", trying to pull him off.  
He was dispatched with a simple push, falling flat on his own serrated back. With another swing of his wing, Dub was knocked aside, sending the notebook spinning into a bush, and the effort caught Wood off balance just enough to crash again on top of Dolly, the hail aiming towards him now, hitting hard, denting.  
A tail wrapped around him, yellow and green and blue and a few jolts coursing through, Sly's, lifting him up off left and down hard, smash smash smash, but a soft landing, Lilo had been caught underneath every thud, trying to scramble out. On the fourth, Wood broke himself free from the tight grip hold, tight gripped just below the five-ring tail, threw it and the snake back then forward as  **hard**  as he could like a whip, sending Sly flying headlong into something steadfast, couldn't tell what as Lilo and Kroko were back up again, in view, onto him.  
In a fit of inspiration and memory from therapy sessions passed, he realized he needed something,  _anything_  to protect himself, something sharp, like a hypodermic needle but not. He ducked from the advancers, out, made them collide roughly, took the chance to scan the ground. A mess of leaves and forest but he had more time than most, everyone was a mess, no coordination, unlike the sheet fingers, dodging Dolly, oscillating between cold and heat, pain and fury, but not for long. In the blades of grass, a long stick, angled in the middle, like the bird's claw, not a needle but it would do, he grabbed it and jabbed it and swept it and it dug into and across her side, this time the hail missed him.  
But Sly did not, back for him with a ducked head and tail curled and ready, hit once, twice, the third blocked with the stick and wing, everyone was on him at once, but only one attacker at a time, they were as unfocused as he'd said, easy to take out, he lashed out at each, all. He should have done this from the start. Uppercut from the corner, left, right, eyes poked and faces scratched, a snap in the middle as the stick broke in two and the fallen half cracked underfoot but still he attacked, better, shorter but sharper, get them away get them hurt get them vulnerable get them willing to go with him  
  
across  _show them_  
up  _what_  
downward swipe  _he could_  
back  _ **really**_  
forward  
 _ **do**_.  
  
Within the tumult, he noticed from the disappearance of orange and brown into green and blue that Dub was the first to retreat. Vanished so quickly from his stabs and swipes, definitely a fast turtle.  
And when the whirling and movement and adrenaline had finally stopped and the world stood still, the toys collapsed and flattened around him pulled themselves up and followed, Sly first, still seeking snakes, then Kroko, dragging his blanket across the ground, Lilo and Dolly, all fleeing. From him.  
He had done it. He had done this. He had weakened them. And yet they still fled with the last of their strength.  
  
Wood tried to pursue, pushing through the brush, but a force pushed him back, something big and hiding, into the clearing. Again and again, too persistent to be Lilo.  
"Dornt borther, Wood." Her voice floated back after the third time, it had been her. "Ah tauld ye -  _ **ow** sonayableedin'_ - we're nae idiots. Yoo'd better keep yer sorry ass awa' frae us  _oww_ , ur sae help me we'll  **kick**  it next time!"  
  
Then, once again, silence remained. Silence, the stick, the book in the bush, his own thoughts, his own breathing... and his own, small, first victory.  
  
 _[...First, next time...]_  
  
Dolly had been right on one thing, if nothing else, he mused as he righted himself to standing. They weren't idiots, the five patients. Hopelessly lost and unharmonious they might have been, but certainly not idiotic. Crises such as this bring out the best and worst in toys; this axiom was why the asylum had -  _still_  - existed to begin with. They would take this chance to prepare for the next time, get into a more coherent team, in revenge for their defeat at his hands.  
  
He moved further out into the light of the skyward sun.  
  
No, they weren't stupid. But nor was he. Far, far from it. If they were going to step up their game, he had to as well. Or else a new win would not come so easily, and his chances of getting them on his side would slim further down.  
  
He picked up the slightly trodden halves of the weapon that had helped him just two minutes prior. He tried to piece them together to create the whole, splintering the ends, and for a single moment, he saw himself echoing one of his dreams.  
A broken, if sharpened, stick could not defend him forever. He needed something bigger. He needed something that could think like he could, see things as he did, that had no connection to those now against him...  
  
...he had to start the recruitment process a little earlier than he'd intended.  
  
Dr Wood dropped both stick segments onto the ground, where they rested in the grass from which he had retrieved it. He moved to the bush, collected the notebook, dusted off the soil and straightened the pencil. Formalities.  
If he could find the tree where he had rested last night, he could find the asylum. If he could find the asylum, he could find the Königsstuhl National Park Centre. If he could find that, he could find the roads, and the path to others, to civilization, to cuddly toys... beings to be healed and taken in. For their sakes, and those of the ex-patients, and his own.  
And if he could get at least two more on his side by the time next time came...  
  
A twitch of a smile crossed his face.  
 _[You, Dolly? Kicking my 'ass'?]_  
  
He looked up from the book, into the rest of the forest in the distance, ready to walk the first steps of his foreseeable future.  
  
"[Good luck.]"


	5. Incepto Ne Desistam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've noticed that this thing isn't getting an awful lot of hits so far. Not that I'm greedy or secretly feel lonely or anything, but I am curious as to why. Is it because it's a work in progress, is that putting people off? Sorry, but that's liable to be the case for quite a long time. Is it because it isn't NSFW? Because my NSFW stuff has been comparatively and consistently popular on here. Is it because of the premise? The long word count? I need to find out what I'm doing wrong here.  
> Feh. In the meantime, here's Chapter 5. 
> 
> \----------------
> 
>  **Chapter theme** :  authority  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Human Behaviour - Bjork](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ml8KDumTO0) (plus [We Walk](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuzLLrL8hmE) by R.E.M, to whom the lyrics featured are copyrighted. This was the only copy on YouTube I could find. And while I'm being chatty in the notes, fuck you, LiveJournal, you're fucking over my 'moodlets as chapter themes' shtick.)  
>  _Originally published on August 7th 2012_

Life for Dolly was made up mostly of extremes, and now was no exception. Every up had to be followed by a down at some point, every mood high by a new low. And right now, she was in the low she usually had to face after a bout of (at the time justified) anger: feeling guilty as hell.  
  
Granted, she'd never had to face it while being rained on with no clouds in the sky before now... unless the suddenness of which it swept her counted as rain. But the core of the matter remained the same no matter what the weather.  
This was her fault.  
  
 _[Shouldn't've yelled at Wood... shouldn't have bashed him...]_  
No one had escaped from Wood's attack unscathed. She could still feel the long sting in her side where the stick had scratched her. The others, too, were nursing sore arms and noses and tails in a pile beyond the freezing cold downpour, smack in the middle of 'Steiff knows where' in the forest.  
 _[If you'd calmed down, they wouldn't be hurt. You deserve the pain. They don't.]_  
They hadn't been able to run very far before collapsing into an aching mess, as much as they'd had to run, needed to. Fortunately for them, Wood hadn't followed them here either, having heeded her last bitter-tasting warning. Where was he now? Where was he going? Could they get out of here to track him down on their own?  
  
 _[Of course you can't. You're lost, you're stuck. He offered to help you out and you spat in his face, Dolly.]_  
  
Just once, she attempted to fight against the words endlessly looping around her brain. "He was gonnae use us. He deserved it," she snapped to herself, quietly so no one could pick up on it, attempting to stand up.  
 _[No he didn't,]_  it retorted.  _[You went too far, and you've made a big enemy, all of you have. Think of the others again, think of them. You got them into this mess, you deserve to feel horrible...]_  
  
Her legs gave way under the weight of the hatred in her head and she fell flat again onto the sodden ground, heels sliding a little into the wetter bits with a mild squelch sound.  
It was an all too common thing at this point, this selfishness, this inner cruel voice with a dreadful 'dog's snarl' echo layered underneath, freezing her insides up. The circumstances that brought it out were usually different every time, and the words it whispered too, but the hurt it caused -  _[you cause]_  - was always as strong as the first time she'd ever had to face it.  
No end to the up-down cycle. So no respite.  
  
The pain in her side twinged again, crossing and crossing over like a stuck zip...  
  
"[Is everyone okay now, guys?]"  
Kroko's concerned voice shook her out of her reverie, but not out of her sour mood.  
"[We just got our tails handed to us, Kroko, what do you think?]" she said, tersely in spite of herself.  
"[I don't know, that's why I asked. I'm feeling a bit better, though.]"  
  
 _Easy fur ye tae say, ye barely did onie fightin'._  To her relief, the snarl was gone from her thoughts. But it wouldn't be for long. She knew how this worked.  
  
Gradually, the pile collapsed in on itself as everyone emerged from it. They did indeed look like they were doing better after the minutes of rubbing away any hints that a fight had even taken place. Stuffed toys, like her and them, were pretty tough under their soft fabric skin - they had to be, all of them, or else they'd snap apart in the first few seconds of rough and tumble with screaming sticky-handed toddlers.  
Kindergarten, or what scraps of it managed to slip through her memory, had taught her that the hard way.  
  
 _[Do you really remember nothing from before you got sent here?]_  There it was, back again.  _[Nothing at all? Nothing about those fights they say you got into, the ones that made you hated amongst the other--]_  
She smacked her own head with her hoof in an attempt to drown it out. It was doing this on purpose, trying to make her more selfish so it could yell at her for it. This was  **not the time**.  
  
What it was the time for, right now, was to figure out what everyone was going to do with themselves. Things hadn't changed much since this morning - Wood was still very much the enemy, had been since the projection of the (no, don't complete that thought, she shuddered); he'd just confirmed it today, that was all.  
 _[Because of you. You shouldn't have hurt him...]_  
 _Shut up, ye._  Should or shouldn't have, it had happened, and it was going to happen again sooner or later. There was no way in hell Wood would keep away from them for long. So someone had to cut through the muddled uncertainty clinging to the air around her raincloud (god, she was never going to get used to that) and get them all organized so that, when it did, they wouldn't come out on the worse end.  
  
Who, though?  
  
She waited for someone to come to the same conclusion and step up to the plate. One minute passed, three. Nothing from anyone. Just more awkwardness.  
...If nothing else, she supposed, she could get the ball rolling.  
  
"[All right. I'm just gonna come out and say what we're probably all thinking,]" she began, this time successful in her attempt to pull herself to standing. "[That, back there? That was a disaster. We really didn't know what we were doing.]"  
  
"[We did,]" said Kroko in protest. "[We were getting Dr Wood away from you and trying to hurt him.]"  
"[Yeah, all at once and with no rhyme or reason. Not really a pain-proof strategy, is it?]"  
He looked down at the base of his tail and said nothing.  
  
"[So if we're going to make the next time we get attacked work in our favour, we've got to get a better plan in gear. And that means a role for each of us - the more sure we are of what we're doing, the easier it'll be. The first thing I think we need is--]"  
  
"[A name!]"  
Sly's burst of words caught her off guard, and the resulting wind splashed some cold raindrops onto her muzzle. "A wha- [name, what? No!]" she sputtered, frantically wiping them off.  
"[I've been doing some thoughts, and I think I like Paraplüsch, because it makes sounds on my tongue and we can't be D--]"  
"[ **No** , Sly.]"  
"[...No Paraplüsch?]"  
"[ **No naming!** ]" she snapped. "[We don't need a name! A name is, like, priority #70!]"  
  
"... [But Paraplüsch makes sounds,]" he repeated, albeit in a smaller voice to himself.  
  
 _[Now you've made two people sad. That's all you ever do, isn't it?]  
Shut up!_  
  
"[As I was saying, the first thing we need is a leader. Someone to tell everyone what to do, when, how and all that. Kroko, I think it ought to be you.]"  
He visibly tensed, his claws digging into the blanket he held. "[Why?]"  
"[You asked if everyone was okay, you can clearly look out for us. That's a leader quality, right?]"  
  
"[I, I don't think so. I think leaders have to do most of the fighting. I tried to fight before and I'm not very good at it. You said yourself.]"  
"[No, I said the strategy as a  **whole** \--]"  
"[Besides, hurting people like Dr Wood makes me feel bad inside, even if they did a little bit deserve it,]" he said meekly. Then, brightening, "[But I  _can_  look out for us. I spotted Dr Wood coming, didn't I?]"  
"[Sure, Kroko, you do that. Whatever you want.]"  
  
She took a few steps around the pile, trying her best to ignore the aching in her side, to find Dub sitting down and trying desperately to parse through what everyone was talking about. (The rain was getting warmer and less fierce now; she could tell by the heat on the ground. That was a plus.) "Dub? Dornt suppose ye followed onie ay 'at?"  
"Nope."  
"We're tryin' tae gie oorselves organized sae whit happened back thaur doesnae happen again," she said, "an' we're tryin' tae pick a leader. Ye want tae gie it a go?"  
  
Dub looked up at her, torn between confusion and exasperation. "Dolly, didn't we just have a whole conversation about how I barely know any German? I've got to understand them, they've got to understand me--"  
"An' yoo've got tae ken a  _wee_  bit, otherwise ye wooldnae hae lasted a day haur," she protested. "Hoo much dae ye ken?"  
"Point. Uh..." He paused for a second or two, briefly rubbing the top of his head. " _Ja. Nein. Guten Morgen, gute Nacht. Himmel Auf_ \- not sure what it means, but I heard it in a song once or twice.  _Bitte. Danke._ " His eyes darted side to side, then back to her. "That's about it. Just basics," he finished.  
  
"Basics can be enaw! Stick aroond us fur lang enaw an' yoo'll start tae pick up th' gist ay th' rest ay it. Ye can jist leid us wi' action ur, ah dunno, sign language if aw else fails."  
"Basics ain't doing anyone any good when Kroko or Sly or whoever is having another episode. You think I could calm Kroko down just by saying  _Bitte_?"  
"I, nae," she conceded.  
"Exactly." He bounced the timer gently in his other hand. "And anyway, didn't you say I was the secret weapon before?"  
"Nae in those words, but aye."  
"Pretty bad form to put a secret weapon out front and make him prone to attack, isn't it?"  
  
She could feel herself cringing. Damn Dub and his logic.  
 _[Another fine display of idiocy, Dolly.]  
SHUT UP!_  
  
She rotated back around to the others, pushing the growl-echo into the background of her thoughts. "[Okay, Dub is now the secret weapon, so no blabbing about it to Wood. What about you, Lilo? Do you want to be leader?]"  
The hippo, having been on-and-off engrossed in his two-piece puzzle, just stared at her now. Did he understand? It was hard to tell with him.  
"[I'm guessing that's a no. What do you want to do then?]"  
The pieces were tapped together, click click click.  
  
Coincidence or response? Either way she rolled with it. "[That's a good idea. That shield-thing of yours ought to keep us from being ambushed.]"  _Like it ooght t' hae dain when we really needed it,_ she couldn't stop herself thinking. "[Can you do that now? Just so I know you're getting what I'm saying?]"  
Head looking up and down, click click.  
  
"[That's okay, you and whoever we choose can work on that later. Alright, um, Sly?]" she asked, reaching the end of her list of options. "[I'm probably gonna really regret asking this, but are you gonna be leader for us?]"  
Sly shook his head. "[I'm speed,]" he said.  
"[Great, that's perfect. Great. You're speed. Now what the hell does that mean?]"  
  
No response. Sly shifted on the spot; his pupils floated around, wider than usual; he stuck his forked red tongue out, back in. But no answer.  
"[Sly? Sly, what do you mean "you're speed"?]" she pressed.  
Still nothing.  
"[Kroko, a little help here?!]"  
  
Thankfully, the crocodile intercepted. "[Sly, we all have to do things. I look out, Dub hides and Lilo is shielding us, so what do you do?]"  
"...[I'm speed,]" the snake repeated as if that explained everything.  
  
He quickly tried again. "[Yes, Sly, but what does speed  **do**? Does it look out like me, or does it do a lot of fighting, or does it--]"  
"[I'M SPEED!]"  
"[ _Okay okay you're speed I'm sorry!_ ]" Kroko yelped, all over and under blanket.  
  
The snarl in her mind laughed derisively.  _[You barely know what to do with this lot, do you? Standing around and being useless like a blob... This is how you got them hurt the first time. Being useless.]_  
  
She couldn't tell it to shut up anymore. She didn't have the strength or capacity. In a weird warm-cold-rain mix of guilt and frustration, she flopped back onto the ground, hoping it would hold her weight.  
"[This is bloody ridiculous!]" she shouted to no one in particular, through the soaking dirt and grass. It tickled and scratched at her muzzle something awful. "[We've decided every bloody role but the one we were  **supposed**  to be deciding! You can't  **all** not want to be leader! Someone's got to do it!]"  
  
A muffled sentence emerged from the depths of the baby blue pillow.  
"[Kroko, we can't hear you from under there.]"  
His head peeked out from underneath. "[I said someone  _is_  doing it.]"  
"[No they're bloody well not! You're not doing it, Sly's not, Lilo's not, Dub's not, so no one is doing it!!]"  
  
Most of everybody else turned to each other, then looked at her for what felt like the longest time.  
 _Why ur they lookin' at me loch...?  
  
... **Oh.**_  
  
"Nuh-uh, nae!" she shrieked after the realization, shaking her head vehemently. "Nein nein nein nein nein. [Absolutely not. Just, no.]" Her hope from before changed - she wanted nothing more now than to sink deep, deep down into the field, or possibly dig. If she dug fast and low enough, she guessed, maybe she could suffocate under there, and she would never have to face herself again.  
  
"No what?" Dub called from out back before she could do any digging at all.  
"Nae, Ah am nae bein' leader!! Ah can't- Ah cannae dae 'at! Ah cannae spick fur a whole crew loch 'at! Aam jist a sheep!"  
"Funny, you didn't have a problem with it when Wood was here," she heard him mutter... almost bitterly?  
  
"[I don't know what Dub just said,]" Kroko butted in, having come out properly now, "[but I think you'd be a good leader. You did well at yelling at Dr Wood back there and getting him away from us.]"  
"[Yes, and I got you hurt as a result! Leaders don't get their groups hurt!]"  
"[You said that was because of our strategy tho--]"  
"[ **I know I bloody said that!**  But if I hadn't snapped at him--]"  
"[He still would have hurt us. You didn't jab a stick into us, so it isn't your fault. Right, Sly?]"  
  
The other nodded. "[I'm speed.]"  
 _Ignoring 'at..._  
  
"[Kroko, come on.  **Look**  at me.]"  
She stood up, and began moving closer to him to give him a better look. But he scurried backwards from her approach, squeaking as he went.  
" _Och, reit, scared ay water_  - [Okay, look at me from over there, but you see my point!]" she insisted, letting the self-hatred and the rain wash over her and fuel her words. "[I get everybody angry at each other, I've just proven I'm an insensitive git... I could barely handle Wood being an arrogant prick. I can't lead you lot on an all-day-every-day basis!]"  
  
"[But Dolly, if you won't, who--]"  
"[Please, Kroko, please...]" She curled up around herself, in the cold, vaguely noticing she was shaking like a leaf. She couldn't look at them, not like this. "[Please, don't, don't make me,  _I can't,_ ]  _I can't, I can't..._ "  
  
Brown upturned dirt poked into her eyes, and her storm, falling harder than ever, showed no signs of stopping. Through the pit-pit-pit of each raindrop, she heard nothing, then Kroko's voice again. "[Um... okay, Dolly. If you really don't want it. ...Sly? I think you'll have to be leader this time. Sorry.]"  
  
"[I'm speed!]"  
"[No, Sly, y-you're leader now.]"  
"[I'm speed?]"  
"[You're leader.]"  
"[I'm...]" A thud. "[I'm... duty?]"  
"[Yes. Yes, you're duty. That's good, Sly.]"  
  
\---------------  
  
It took another few minutes - few, lots, who could tell in this place? - for the rain to calm down to its regular speed and for Dolly to stop wanting to dig herself into an early grave. (She still wanted to die in some capacity, that couldn't be avoided right then; she just didn't want to go out by a dirt bed.) When she had sufficiently 'cheered up', Sly's first order of business as "duty" was to lead everybody out of this godforsaken forest.  
  
If the past two days had proven anything, that was easier said than done. The new arrangement did have some pros from before: everyone had someone to follow and keep up with, and since he could go really fast when not distracted by things, it prevented wasting any more time here than they needed to.  
Cons: before, they hadn't had a song on loop to put up with.  
  
"♪ [ _Up the stairs, to the landing, up the stairs, into the hall, oh oh oh...]_ ♪"  
  
Sly had been singing that roughly since they'd started, spinning around in electricity ahead of the group. The same words were coming out of his mouth over and over and over and over again with no end in sight. A lot like the forest around them all, in many ways.  
  
It was odd. Dolly had dreamt about being here, once or twice. When Dr Spieler had introduced her to that sockpuppet, wherever it was right now, and then returned her to the vulture-infested desert her dream self had been hanging around in, the forest in the distance was the next area she had been led to. She had even seen Lilo luring her into the trees, wearing a sock on his mouth for some reason. And, being the stupid sheep she was, she'd followed him and been licked by that giant red tongue, and that was how the whole hatred cycle had flared up... the most recent time.  
And now here they were, Lilo sockless, all trapped within a place that Dolly had scratched the surface on. And despite Spieler saying that the hate would go away, it hadn't. Not for very long, anyway, and it always came back worse.  
  
"♪ [ _Marat's ba-a-athing_ ♪ _We walk through the wood~]_ ♪"  
  
Honestly, it almost seemed like she was in a dream right now. Even (especially) with Sly at the helm and through the veil of rain, every part of the forest looked the same. True, different sizes of trees surrounded them every time they looked up, and the lighting changed sometimes, but how many times now had they come across a rock that looked like the one she had slept on when she knew for a fact they weren't headed back there?  
And all five of them were so small that it felt unreal. The striped snake could have wrapped around them all several times over and still not be long enough to make a difference. And Kroko could only fly so high up. Seven feet was a big height advantage compared to them on the ground, but he had that blanket to drag everywhere, and in a place where the trees were taller than the asylum they were looking for to guide them out... the constant, persistent trees... did seven feet matter either way?  
  
Dolly was beginning to half-suspect either that she'd actually been knocked into a literal dirt nap in that fight, or that the real world was in a repetitive state of mind right now. Moods, and footsteps, and singing in that same slightly off-key tone, and, well, Sly saying anything at all today.  
More cycles that never stopped. Broken record snakes and circles that spun around, in her mind and in the world around her, neither going forward or back. She half expected to see a dislodged bicycle wheel resting against a trunk.  
  
The only thing that proved it  **wasn't**  a dream, besides the lack of bicycle, was the constant sense bombardment. Dreams were silent and touchless and usually lacked detail; this place was filled with twigs to kick and poke, brief birdsong, Sly's intrusive melody, the smell of wet soil, wind, increasingly hot rain, rocks, reality... a reality they could possibly be lost in forever.  
  
Still, Dolly hadn't lied before, and if Sly wasn't going to change his tune, she wasn't going to change hers either. Not that she didn't want to get out of here, but compared to Wood's plans for them, being stranded in here for the rest of their lives  _would_ have been much better. No worries about who would find them, no fears of being good enough to stick around, alone with her hatred so she couldn't hurt anybody else--  
"♪  _[we wa-lk_  ♪  _up the stairs, to the lan--_ ]"  
  
"[DAMMIT SLY WILL YOU  **SHUT IT UP WITH THE SINGING**?!]" she roared in infuriation, stopping everyone in their tracks.  
  
A short pause.  
  
"Hoden, [now I've lost my place where I was at,]" Sly said in obvious disappointment. "[I'm gonna start over and make it sound better,] ja ja. [♪  _Up the stairs, to the landing..._ ♪]"  
  
 _ **Augh!**  Someain bury me. Hit me wi' a shovel an' pit me back in th' ground. I'll tak' anythin' reit noo!_  
One step forward, several steps back.  
  
\---------------  
  
Eventually, through some kind of fluke after what felt like several minutes of wandering around listening to a song about walking through the wood, Sly led them through one more bush and they emerged behind the damaged remains of the asylum. ("[Hey guys, I think I spotted out!]") No humans around, but an actual route, followed by another intact but deserted building, and clear paths and open skies and  **freedom**.  
Dolly's rain had already pretty much peeled away, as had the long stretch of pain on her side; but upon stepping out into the cool sunlight and the cold painted concrete of a wide and defined road to anywhere, the droplets that still remained evaporated into the air. Instead, tufts of grass began to sprout under every relieved tread of the hoof.  _Must be a sign 'at aam actually kinda happy,_ she thought.  
  
Everyone else cheered up at that too. Lilo didn't really show any big change, but he wasn't clinging to his blocks quite so tightly, she noticed. Sly stopped singing,  _thank god,_ and slithered along at top speed over the white lines before anyone could ask whether they were actually going to follow the road. (Which, it turned out, they were. Not much choice there.) Kroko took once again to the air, flapping away, but he didn't seem quite so self-restrained now.  
  
As for Dub, it was like he had woken up from a long, forced hibernation. In and out of sprinting stance, a very deep breath for such a small turtle, then he shot off like he had wheels on his heels, the others close behind.  
"Well well, whit pit a sprin' back in  **yer**  step?" she asked him once she'd managed to get within speaking distance.  
"'s been ages since I've been in fresh air like this," he called back. "And just look at how long the track is! I could pro'ly run on it forever." And that was exactly what he did for most of the next few hundred steps.  
She had to give him some credit - as stubborn and sometimes oblivious as he'd been since he started talking, he was damn fast. Not as fast as the snake in front, but he certainly outran her. He probably would even if she was actually running anymore.  
  
They all gradually slipped into a nice queue of sorts. Sly out front, naturally. Dub chasing him. Kroko above, Lilo pushing the pillow along. And Dolly was bringing up the rear, blades bending under her feet. Exactly as she liked it.  
  
Honestly, right now she was feeling the best she had in what felt ( _heh_ ) like ages. Or maybe it was that she was feeling good for longer. How long had she felt her last bright spot? Two minutes, if that, and that was back when Dub's watch revealed its inner secret. Even then, the reality of their at-the-time situation had quickly snuffed that out, so had it even counted as a bright spot? Probably not.  
  
But if this wasn't one, she didn't know what was. The sun was bright, despite the coldness of the air - hell, she was actually there to  **see**  the sun, instead of looking out at it through the window of the bedroom. She was out of that asylum, out of that cage, and the world stretched along, ready to be walked and watched by them lot ahead.  
  
She hadn't seen this much action since kindergarten. She hadn't walked this close to anyone since, well, ever. And that grass that kept popping up. When was the last time zshe'd felt honest to god grass? Felt properly 'outside', even if parts of it zshe made herself?  
  
Zshe didn't know if the patch coming up right now would still be there if zshe looked behind a few metres from now. Zshe didn't know how zshe was making it; zhe didn't even really know how zhe got out of there in the first place, how any of them got out. But at least they were out. Zhe could always find out how later. No rush.  
And why question outside when outside felt so good underneath zher toe pads? Bare-pawed on the road, a simple kind of happiness.  
  
Life wasn't so bad, not really.  
  
"[Hey. Are you okay back there?]" zhe heard from above. "[You're falling behind.]"  
"[Yeah yeah, I'm comin'.]"  
Quickly suppressing the need to ask how the hell Kroko got up there, ze picked up speed to catch up to the others, zer tail wagging left right, carefree.  
  
At the end of another stretch of walking along with inner questions, observations and gusts of wind catching zer off guard every so often, the snake up front screeched to a halt so abruptly that almost everyone crashed right into him. It gave the turtle a pretty bad shock. Kroko was the only one to dodge it, being up in the air and all, then to point out the cause of the hold-up when ze crankily asked about it. They'd reached a curve in the road, with a dump marking the turning point, spilling over with empty cardboard boxes and piles of rusty scrap iron.  
A raven - Dr Wood, ze vaguely remembered, then heard - was making his way out of that dump. And he wasn't alone. The creatures around zer tensed up at this, so ze thought ze should too.  
Not really hard to do, though. He was an authority guy. On  **zer**  turf. That kind of thing tended to piss zer off.  
  
 _[Chill. Stay still. Stand your ground. Look intimidating,]_  something whispered. A growl, oddly comforting.  
"[No good running away, Wood,]" ze found zerself shouting. "[We can see you.]" Zer own voice didn't snarl like the inside one, unfortunately, but at least it got his attention.  
  
"[Oh, so you did manage to find a way out on your own,]" he said calmly when he got close enough to them. "[And it only took you four hours. Impressive, by patient standards.]"  
"[Wait - ]" Kroko, having landed, moved further forward to meet him - "[shouldn't you be a little more, um, surprised?]"  
"[Frankly, no. I anticipated it. I knew eventually you'd change your minds about the association.]"  
"[Association of what?]"  
  
Wood gave a self-satisfied smirk that made zer see red and the grass under zer feet begin to crackle with embers... somehow. "Krallenvereinigung. The Claw Association. [So named because claws can attack, or they can protect. And I choose to do both.]"  
"[Catchy,]" ze said not entirely sarcastically.  
"[Certainly catchy enough to help us quadruple in size in the past thirty minutes,]" he continued, and they followed his nod to the three beings that had by now moved up behind him. Ze could tell what they were from here: one of those tall jointed teddy bears, a dirty ferret with a slit in his back, and a dishevelled rat toy with a paw missing.  
  
"[Wait, you know these guys?]" asked the ferret.  
"[They're the potential recruits I told you about. Just follow my lead.]"  
  
"[We've already said we won't join you though,]" that high-pitched voice pointed out. "[We don't need you anymore. We got out okay, thanks to Sl-]"  
"[Perhaps you did, but you can't have gained so much control over your superpowers at the same time.]" Wood had to pause to calm the tiny rat down at that, since apparently he hadn't known  _that_  important detail.  
But nor, really, had ze until a few minutes ago. _[Though I should've guessed from my paws being on fire just now.]_  
Once Wood pulled the rat and himself together, he continued: "[Without me - us, I should say - you are not out of the woods yet.]"  
"[Yes we  **are** , that's what I'm saying--]"  
"[The figurative woods. Places in the Association are still open for the five of you, if you really have changed your minds.]"  
  
"[No - no, we haven't, we don't want to!]"  
"[Are you saying you'd prefer a repeat of last time? Keep in mind I won't be so lenient in letting you escape...]"  
  
Something inside zer twinged at the thought of that. Where had that suddenly come from? Last ze remembered, ze hadn't swallowed a barbed anything.  
That warning caught Kroko off guard for a bit too. "[I-- I don't- can't-- Sly, help!]" he yelped. "[You're leader, I mean duty, you're duty, what do we do? ...Sly?]"  
  
Sly - the snake - had, in fact, not moved an inch since he'd skidded to a halt, except to curl up around himself and start making spiral shapes with his tail like he was a freaking frisbee. "♪  _[Up the stairs, to the landing, up the stairs, to the landing, up the stairs, to the colours, up the stairs]_ " and so on.  
Wherever his head was right now, it wasn't in the mood for helping anyone out.  _[Ugh, way to be a leader, snake boy.]_  
  
Wood was as accepting of this news as they were in all likelihood screwed by it. "[Heh. I'll have to thank Sly later for making the job of recruiting you much easier,]" he said. "[One less limit to restrict me.]" He stepped back, in line with the other three, and stretched out his wings.  
"[Pfft. What are you gonna do, flap us to death?]" ze couldn't help but snark.  
  
A hum pushed the words back into zer mouth as it filled the air, low and vibrant. The bear, ferret and rat became kind of fuzzy, like a memory, then really out of focus, blurred.  
Then a twitch from the raven and they split down the middle,  _[that's gotta hurt]_ , and they became bears, ferrets and rats, plural.  
Then again, again and again, quicker, dividing and multiplying. Nine, eighteen, many, lots... when he finally stopped, the road was full of them, practically an army of brown and cream and pinkish-red.  
  
 _[Crap.]_  
The hippo and turtle had almost fallen back over themselves (and Sly) to get away from it. Ze and the crocodile actually  **had**. "[Oh god, how many of them are there?]" Kroko squeaked as they pulled themselves up.  
"[Uh, just the one,]" all the rats said at once. Then, to fill in the silence, "[...wait. Hundred. Just the one hundred. Each. Right?]"  
"[Right.]" Wood's wings still hadn't dropped, but that didn't stop him from looking out at the frightened four around zer. "[I'd like to see you try to fight these off.]"  
  
To say what ze did next ze did without thinking would be a lie. But it was one of those instances of really fast thinking, almost no pause between idea and speech, the split second between the mass movement of all the enemy toys at once and zer reaction. Almost instinctual.  
  
"[Hang back, you lot.]"  
"[But doh-]"  
"[I said hang back! I got this.]"  
  
Off on a run, a charge. Where was ze aiming? Ze didn't know. Anyone, anywhere. Straight ahead and moving and attacking to prove a tickling point.  
Ze ended up running right through one of the bears, then a whole lot of other copies, until ze was clean out the other side. "[Heh, just as I thought.]"  
They all turned on zer but ze repeated zer run-through, watching them dodge this time, in an attempt at looking more real. Back to the others, trying their damnedest not to appear confused.  
"[It's not real. Most of them aren't. We need to shoot for the real ones if this is gonna work. Kroko,]" ze barked out, "[you'd better do that flying thing. I'm pretty sure Woodster can't make them fly.]"  
"[Wait, isn't Sly the lea--]"  
"[Just do it!]"  
  
Zer first order... and zer first obedience on their end too. What did they mean, Sly the leader? He couldn't lead an ant farm.  
Ze, on the other hand, had this down. Plans formulating in the alpha mind like they had always been there.  
Leader. Perfect place for a wolf.  
  
Speaking of, "[Sly? Hey, snake boy!]" He looked up from his tail, a window of opportunity. "[You see the big wave of toys coming at you?]"  
Looking forward, then back. "[I don't think, no. Only three.]"  
"[Perfect. Those are the real ones. Shoot for them. Run into them, shock them like you did the turtle before.]"  
He sped away, probably not caring either way that his position had been usurped, right into one of the rats. None of the others flinched at that. It seemed Wood was stepping up his game.  
  
"[Hippo?]"  
"[Lilo,]" ze heard from the air.  
"[Whatever. Just keep on Sly's tail. He'll lead you to someone that you can hit with those blocks or something.]"  
No movement.  
"[...What are you waiting for, permission? Go!]"  
The hippo looked perturbed at that, but went anyway, trailing the snake, who was tossing the rat around in the air despite being pestered by a swarm of its copycats. Copyrats.  
"[Not too hard, though, you lot! They look washed up as it is. Turtle, I'm not really sure what you're supposed to do, but whatever it is, do it on the other one.]"  
  
"...Uh, didn't catch a word of that."  
  
Crap in a crud, the turtle was an English speaker?  
"[Y-you know, that bit...]" Augh, this was gonna put a spanner in the works. Ze had to know English, otherwise how could ze understand him, but could ze speak it?  
"Do- tha' thin' wi--" ze tried. But it didn't work. It sounded too wrong, not like zer usual voice at all. Too rough, accenty. No, no time to work this out, the air was too hot. He'd have to put up or shut up. "[Just do what you've been told to do!]"  
"Look, I dunno what you think you're playing at, d--"  
  
In frustration, ze literally barked, out loud, four times.  
"All right, okay!" That got him to move. At supersonic speed, from the looks of it; he was over the other side in like a microsecond and one or more of the bears were suddenly dislodged.  
  
Now to get to the down and dirty. Rat occupied, bear occupied. Who had the ferret? Which was the real one? Ze'd go for him.  
"[Kroko, you still up in the air? Think you can corral all the ferrets into one spot?]"  
"[I'll try,]" he said, swooping down, working his arms all the while. Ze followed, passing Lilo being ambushed by a combination crowd, Sly being overpowered by legless rats, and keeping an eye on the increasingly irritated raven, his brain ticking away. If ze went for him, then-  
 _[No, take down the mooks first. Then he won't be able to fight back.]_  
  
It took a few crash landings and a scuffed arm, but eventually all the ferrets were grouped together. No way of getting out without breaking physics, which would destroy the illusion being built up. Trapped.  
Shouting out thanks, ze headed into the mass. Cream and dirt and fur in a blur, trying to dodge and getting clipped by what was real and passing through what was fake. What was the weather like around zer now? Ze hadn't been keeping track. Heat or cool, flames or earth? Or was the fire actually the sunset in zer eyes? Either way, ze made contact with the real one and found a chance, leaping onto him and getting smacked in the face a few times for zer trouble. Cold amongst the coolhot.  
Ze chucked him off, and he landed hard on his back as he tried not to cry out in pain. "[ **Ow** -  _no, it's all in the mind, Han, it's all in the mind,_ ]" ze thought ze heard. But why ask what the heck that meant when ze could give him a few kicks to the face zerself? Act first, questions later.  
  
With every hit, another ferret vanished. Wood was beginning to lose grip, it looked like. Ze looked up, spun around, not off guard. Kroko had flown off to retrieve Dub from the inside of a mess of bears, Sly over there, still a tad unfocused - oop, Han was chucking himself at zer, better duck - Lilo scrambling to regain his hold on the bricks with the fading others in front.  
"[Kroko, Lilo, bring 'em over here,]" ze called, and they did, ever obedient of zer authority, pushing them over and over, a swarming seething blend of fur and fuzz and fabric. But the others cut down the fakes, one by one, sliding through, slipping, pushing, until the three real ones were left, shoved into a pothole in the road, hidden from sight of Wood.  
Wood, running through his plan, wondering aloud how Dub (turtle?) could run so fast, how to distract them all again...  
 _[Not a chance in hell.]_  
  
And, taking that one last opening to get at him, ze broke off from the rest and charged one more time and--  
\--and he dodged, and ze crashed, and he moved behind zer, but didn't attack back. He didn't want to retaliate anymore.  
  
That signaled the fight was over as quickly as it had begun. They'd won... sort of. They'd passed the test, anyway. They'd fought through the fakes.  
Ze stood up, even while zer legs shook, wobbled as the adrenaline wore off; things became dizzy and smoky.  _Oo-er._ But that didn't matter. They'd won.  
 **Ze** 'd won.  
  
"[Sorry, Wood,]" a new voice said, from the pothole. The bear. Wood was letting them out, they were running away, the cowards.  
"[Don't. They'll be too tired to pursue. We just need to rethink this plan.]"  
He was wrong, they could chase-- no, legs too unsteady, ze couldn't quite find the breath to run, he was right, he and they took the chance and escaped.  
  
It didn't matter. They won, they  _won_ , that thought did nothing but circle around. They won and they'd win again, or zer name wasn't -  
  
...  
Name.  
Dammit.  
What was zer name?  
Zer...  
  
"[Dolly?]"  
  
...  
  
"... _ih, wha-?_ "  
  
Dolly blinked once, twice, looked around, felt a wind rise once again.  
What had just happened? Why was she in so much achy pain? How'd the sky get so dark? What time was it? What was that dump doing there? Had they walked any further? Where when what why how who?  
  
All the voices exploded in her ears at once, which didn't exactly help.  
"[That was great, Dolly! Not that you were supposed to, but I said you could do it and you did and-]"  
"-[didn't really feel like a duty because of colours and everything spinning, so I'm sort of glad you]-"  
"-me not knowing German and yet you still tell me what to do in German? Something's not right in this equation-"  
"-[hope running away doesn't become a theme here even if it does mean the lights stopped]-"  
"-could at least  **tell**  me when you're going to go all cranky ass on me, you know?"  
"-[ferrets and rats and things.]"  
  
"[...the hell are you all going on about?]" she asked through the gusts of choking black smoke that had snuck up on her. Clicking blocks in the distance.  
  
"[Back there!]" Kroko sounded like he was smiling, not that she could tell. "[With the fighting and the telling us what was what and everything.]"  
"[...This is going to sound stupid, but. Recap?]" The quiet laughter of the snarl in her head made her all too aware of how pathetic she sounded.  
"[Wood was ambushing us with his new enemies and Sly was distracted, so you became leader and helped us through it! Like I thought you could! Basically.]"  
  
 _...when did Ah...?  
That'd explain th' hurt an' stuff, but..._  
  
The whole day played back in her mind's eye, from waking to growling to digging to walking. Everything beyond Dub running ahead, nothing. A total blank.  
 _Why dornt Ah remember **any**  ay 'at?_  
  
Sly spoke up again before she could think that through. "[Does this mean I'm not duty at all anymore?]"  
"[I- Sly, why weren't-]"  
"[Because if you're duty, I don't see why I should be duty. Common senses.]"  
  
Every question and fear and muddled statement rammed through her throat at once, getting stuck between each other, and in that moment Dolly found herself far too tired to disagree.  
  
"Y-yeah. [I'm leader. Duty. Sure.]" She fell flat onto her stomach once again, welcoming the cool feel of the concrete against it.  
"[...Are you feeling okay, Dolly?]"  
"[Yes. No. I'm tired, Kroko,]" she simplified. "[Let me get some sleep.]"  
"[Should we sleep too? It's been a long day-]"  
"Aye, [whatever.]"  
  
She fell deeply into a long tangled stretch of a dream, involving exposed stuffing, Sly's ridiculous song and the growling and sniffing of numerous dogs.


	6. Bellum se Ipsum Alet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter theme** :  cooperation  
>  **Soundtrack** : [The Road Goes On](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3gC4dcu_CvA)  
>  _Originally published on August 13th 2012_

"[...mngh... Dammit, how long have we been out?]"  
  
Dolly had just woken up after collapsing yesterday, so for her, he would guess anywhere between eight to thirteen hours, perhaps fourteen. Regarding the others, he didn't know, as he'd fallen asleep shortly afterwards himself. (Mind, he had gently rolled her surprisingly heavy form out of the actual road first. They hadn't seen any cars so far, speeding or otherwise, but it was better to be safe than sorry.)  
If he had a legitimate clock on hand, he could be more specific. Even a sundial would have been useful.  
But no. Paradoxically, time meant less out here than it had in the clinic. The sun rose, the sun set, the night looped around, and everything dissipated into an irritating vagueness.  
  
Bully for Lilo.  
  
Not that he would have been in the best of moods this morning regardless of this. He did have a  _good_  night's sleep of sorts; better than the night against the tree, at any rate. It would have been his best since their self-eviction from "home", were it not for the nightmare.  
He could only remember sections of it, the beginning and the end. It started like it usually did, with him in space, guiding giant versions of his puzzle together. And it had ended completely differently, the swirling cosmos forming themselves into a human face that he simultaneously knew and didn't.  
What would Spieler have to say about it, were she here?  
  
The rest of the toys had pulled themselves up by now, looking equally as well rested as, if not more so than, Dolly. Or rather, as well rested as a turtle, a snake and a crocodile could look, considering what they had been thrust into over this stretch of time.  
Sly set off almost immediately, curving out along the road in a lightning strike; at a command, Kroko chased him down and blocked his path, sending him back. The reason given was that, apparently, not everyone was ready to go yet.  
Ridiculous. Everyone was awake. They had a goal, someone to catch up to and chase. He himself was clearly ready, therefore everyone else should have been too. So why couldn't they go?  
Not that Lilo could say this, even if he were willing.  
  
He couldn't even remember the last time he had talked.  
  
Despite all attempts at remaining solitary, this event had more than anything functioned as the beginnings of a "everybody getting to know everybody" exercise. He'd known that Kroko was usually frightened, that Dolly sometimes barked, and that Sly was hyperactive; but the literal mindedness, the resourcefulness and the embodiment of all things chaotic and illogical (maybe a slight exaggeration) had only come out through experience, interaction by proxy.  
They knew nothing about him, of course. Kroko had tried to get through to him, when he had stopped to ponder his puzzle. Dolly had implied he was a total idiot before that first fight. Wood had acknowledged him, in a way. But at the beginning of the day, he was the quiet one here, which was exactly how things usually were regardless.  
And, in this case, supposed to be. Contrary opinions on his end, if they were voiced, would be the last thing this group needed.  
  
His puzzle... He looked at it now. The two blocks, one in the shape of a C and one in the shape of a T. They looked like they fit together, possibly to make a square, and yet they simply could not. Every time he tried to slot one into the other, much like his dream, something obscured his thoughts and they veered away, the wrong ends clicking together instead in a way that the sockpuppet had sometimes found annoying.  
That was probably what made everyone think he was stupid. What kind of toy with half a brain couldn't complete a two-piece jigsaw puzzle?  
More to the point, what kind of toy with half a brain put so much effort into doing so, only to meet with failure?  
  
"[I'm bored,]" he heard from somewhere around him.  
  
Lilo knew he had half a brain. He just didn't know why it wouldn't cooperate on this one front. It was like a clog, a blockage in the stream that made the top of his head wobble in thought and that no amount of effort could push past.  
"[I'm  _bored_.]"  
  
What would happen, he wondered, if he finally got them to fit together? Would confetti fall from the sky? Would everyone suddenly start talking to him? Something had to happen, otherwise why would this be so important?  
Would the force field be affected? That force field that was a lot easier to get (just one swift back to back motion) and yet so incidental in the grand scheme?  
  
"[I'm  _ **bor** or **ooor** ooor **ooooor** ed_!]"  
  
"[Can you be bored quietly, Sly?!]" said Dolly, bringing him back to reality. "[ _Some_  of us are still a bit tired here.]" He could tell by what little smoke lingered about her otherwise wide awake being, the 'usual' black shade rather than the white and thin wisps he had seen while she was dozing... a sight that was becoming ever more commonplace but no less bewildering.  
Sly was zigzagging between the edges of the road, dodging Kroko and the same pothole from before every so often, the air making loud sharp noises as he cut through it. "[I'm not tired, I'm ready to go. We keep sitting around to just  **think**  about go and we never  **actually**  go and no one  **ever**  goes when we're supposed to go that's why Wood catches up to us instead of us catching up to him and I'm bored we have to  **gooooo**.]"  
  
Strange. Could Sly - mixed up, distracted, not-of-this-reality Sly - honestly share Lilo's opinion on something verbally? Steiff forbid.  
  
"[Sly, calm down,]" said Kroko. "[Just stick close to us and we'll go when we're ready, okay?]"  
"[But I  **am**  ready,]" Sly protested, petulantly. "[I'm ready and electricked, and there's too much static and it's making my twitch hurt.]"  
Dub said something from the other side of the road, sounding playful, yet in agreement. Not that he could have understood the conversation, but it was a nice gesture-  
"[Heh. Dub wants to know, are you complaining about there being no trees to run into?]"  
Well, so much for that.  
  
"[Sly, seriously,]" she continued, "[can't you slow down? You're not helping the energy situation here.]"  
"[But - I - have - to - make - sparks - ow - fast!]" Every word was punctuated by a whiz of wind as he flitted faster and faster, more crackly. "[If - I - stop - it'll - hurt.]"  
"[But you're going to fry yourself black if you keep that up. Just push it all into, I don't know, Lilo.]"  
  
Wait. What? Why would - no, stay back - why would she be so callous - Sly,  _stop_  -- !  
  
But no words could come out, not even now when he wanted them to, and Sly had sped over to him into the grass and suddenly electricity was coursing through his body and every nerve of his being was pain and cold and shaking and a blur and shouts of "[No, I didn't mean that literally!!]"  
And when everything ceased moving - even before then - he realized his hands had jolted together from the spasm of the shock.  
And the blocks were, at last, connected in a square.  
  
He couldn't not realize it. The effect was instantaneous, like someone turned on a vacuum cleaner, like someone turned the gravity up high and changed its centre. Which, specifically, was exactly what happened. He was pulled onto himself, then Sly was pulled onto him, and in an onsweep a startled Dolly was uprooted and fell onto his face (pushing more static into him; that didn't help matters), and from the squeaks and grunts he could guess Dub and Kroko had been caught too, in this drag. This sucking in towards the puzzle, locked tight together.  
In the middle of the jumble of cotton and limbs, in his hands, they shook and pulsed. They showed the unity he had hoped for since the beginning, the completion.  
  
He should have been pleased. Goal achieved.  
But now he wanted simply to tear them apart again, to get everybody off of him and away and out of each other's personal space. Apart from anything else, Sly had started to panic and was lashing out.  
  
One tug, two. Left right left right left. But nothing. Locked  _too_  tight together.  
A voice said "[Someone- ow - do something!]" but he couldn't tell who in the blend of the other noises, rustling of fabric, kicking of legs, exclamations of the snake.  
He tried letting go of them, but it only made the centre of the pulling fall to the floor, not the pulling itself, and it was so strong by this point he ended up accidentally grabbing them again anyway.  
The insides of his stomach felt like a washing machine; nausea was sneaking up on him.  
Opposite directions, left and right at the same time, but they remained steadfast, not helped by the fact that Dolly was still firmly on his head.  
Sly's tail was flopping all over the place, hitting toys left and right, further adding to the frightened mess...  
  
...and then it hit him in the back of the head, more shaking and crackling, and the blocks were suddenly as apart as they had been before. Gravity re-oriented itself, and the pile crumbled, giving Lilo room to breathe and rediscover equilibrium.  
  
Well. The blocks had fit together. And something had most definitely happened.  
A core-shaking, stomach-churning something. A deeply troubling something that he wasn't sure he wanted to happen again. But something.  
  
Dolly, having re-found her own space, was the first to calm down enough to speak, though the air still crackled around her. "[Crap... That's never happened before.]"  
Lilo couldn't 'thank' her for stating something even he could recognize, so he settled with looking down at his separated C and T.  
Meanwhile, Sly hadn't lost any of his energy by some miracle, and was fidgeting awkwardly on the spot now. "[Okay, right, now we're up and ready, right? We can go fast fast, right?]"  
  
"[...Actually, Sly, Lilo,]" she said after a short pause, "[I'd kinda like to try something with that.]"  
"[What.]"  
"[Would you mind if we stick around here for a bit and do some training?]"  
"[What?!]"  
  
Lilo had to agree with the indignant snake. He  **would**  mind, very much. And he hoped him putting his blocks down and staring at her would show it, but he'd never been good at facial expressions, gauging or making, so he wasn't holding his breath.  
  
"[Good, that got you to pay attention.]" It hadn't. "[Think about it. You two are basically the ones who need this the most anyway. No offense,]" she quickly added, glancing down at the ground. "[Kroko's flying, Dub's thing, my weathers... not really rocket science, are they? We get in, hit, get out. But you two are more complicated, so you need more training than us. Lilo, if you manage to get control over your shield and your - whatever the hell just happened, and Sly, if you get a bit more... how do I put this? Focused. We could be ready for Wood when we catch up with him.]"  
"[You mean like better prepared?]" Kroko said, unusually nasally as he was holding onto what looked like a stubbed nose.  
"[Yeah! He's getting better at the whole fighting thing, so we've got to do the same to stand any chance. Anyway, if... if I really have to be leader,]" she said that part with an icy layer of bitterness underneath, "[I might as well start off on the right foot, and this is a right foot if ever I saw it. ...Well, it's not literally a right foot, but you know. Does that make sense, Lilo?]"  
  
There was no denying it. It did. Things like this were why she had found herself in charge and he had not. So he picked the blocks back up, a sign of agreement in his eyes.  
And he suspected Sly would have agreed too had he not zoned out and wandered off - "OOF" - effectively ending the conversation by crashing into the same pothole he'd tried to avoid. "[Dolly, I got stuck.]"  
  
"Verdammt noch mal,  **SLY!!** " she yelled at him, for the benefit of no one.  
  
\---------------  
  
 _Item #1 on Dolly's Spontaneous Training Agenda: Basic Shielding/Target Practice._  
  
For whatever reason, Dolly had forgotten the ideas she had had in the battle last evening. Perhaps sleep had pushed them all away, as it tended to do. So she'd decided instead to construct a scenario from scratch, simultaneously giving Dub something to do so his unintelligible statements of probable boredom wouldn't grate on the group.  
This situation was apparently Dub wearing a couple of black socks over his shoulders and one tied around his waist, while strutting around across a fixed line and saying things that could have had the accent of the German (or French or Scandinavian for all the hippo knew), but did not otherwise resemble it.  
  
"[Lilo, can you make your shield for me please?]" she asked him over the racket, stealing a glance at the blocks. "[Just so I know you're listening and--]"  
A few seconds later, she'd made her way back from the other side of the road where she had landed. "[Okay, clearly you're listening. Well done. But doing it on command is one thing, doing it to deflect an attack is another. When Wood tries to hit you, you do that again. Get me?]"  
Yes, that was a simple enough instruction. Or it would be if Wood was among them.  
  
But before he could go looking more indepth, Dolly barked out something else equally incomprehensible, and Dub left his 'zone' and gingerly tapped Lilo around the face.  
  
"[...That's your cue. Lilo.]"  
No it wasn't. Wood hadn't tried to hit him. She  **knew**  this.  
Dub attacked again, harder than before, but not so much as to leave a sting. Was he supposed to react to that?  
  
"[Lilo!]" Dolly barked. "[Wood is hitting you! Get him away!]"  
Had lying in the grass blinded her? That was clearly Dub. He removed one of the socks to prove it. See, definitely a turtle shell.  
"[Okay, yes, that's Dub in a half-assed costume. But right now he's being Wood. Blast him away.]"  
But that would be attacking the enemy, and Dub wasn't the enemy, even if he was snatching socks and hitting him and making Lilo very confused. He had to sit down, so he did.  
  
"[All right, fine, don't. Sly?]" she called over to the other, prodding at Kroko's blanket. "[Wood's attacking Lilo. Get over here and put sparks into him.]"  
Sly quickly sped over, aiming directly at Dub so as to crash headlong into him, knocking off a sock again. Not done yet, he curled up his tail into a ball and began hitting Dub in the face ("[Take that and that and that]"), much to Dolly's alarm.  
  
"[Sly, stop! You hit him once, you can let him go.]"  
"[But that's Wood,]" he said. "[Wood is the enemy, so he needs to be hit.]"  
"[No, you idiot, that's Dub!]"  
"[Dub's not the enemy, silly head.]"  
"[No, Dub is Wood!]"  
"[But you said this is Wood.]" He pointed down to the struggling turtle.  
"[That's Dub too!  _Dub is pretending to be Wood!!_ ]"  
"[So say so say so. If you tell me one thing and Lilo one thing and Dub one thing, that's three things that don't make one thing at all, just a mix of three things that don't match alike, like a game of Snap Fish turned around. And it feels good to hit things.]"  
  
Dolly just beat her muzzle a couple of times against the road.  
  
****  
  
In-between cleaning up after this task and preparing for the next one, Dolly did admit to the hippo that his was the more justifiable response. "[Frankly, I don't blame you for seeing through it. Singing his praises with a really bad accent doesn't count as an impersonation to me either.]"  
Dub, unsocked, said a few curt things to her that Lilo didn't understand, though judging by her retorts and the air nearly scorching the both of them at the loudest, they couldn't have been sensible.  
  
 _Item #2 on DSTA: Basic Gravity Thingy/Switcheroo Practice._  
  
Since her last attempt hadn't worked, she took a clearer stance when setting up the next item. Kroko had brought over various knick knacks from the dump, small pans and cups and pieces of cardboard and the like, and they'd been put in a tight circle around Lilo and Sly.  
The idea was simple this time around. Get them away, then bring them back. Shield, then black hole. Disorientation... hopefully, he thought, more of the enemies than of himself. His stomach still hadn't entirely settled.  
It didn't help that this would require more electricity to pass through him, courtesy of the addled snake. But now he was somewhat prepared for it, in a manner of speaking (or not, as the case truly was).  
  
Sly started circling around the pans and things to build up the static. At least in theory; sometimes he stopped to stare at his reflection in what patches of chrome could be found on a particularly large pan. But Kroko, having taken over from an irritated Dolly, was there to urge him on.  
"[Are you ready, Lilo?]" he asked somewhere around the tenth circle.  
He tapped his blocks together.  
"[Then you can push them away now.]"  
A quick rotation of the C, aiming the backs, lining them up. Right angle to right angle...  
  
"Fwoooom!"  
"[No, Sly, not you. Put those back.]"  
Sly had stopped, taking any electricity with him, and knocked the chrome pan and some cardboard aside with a swish of his tail. "[Oops.]"  
  
Fortunately, Lilo managed to do the force blast on cue once the circle had been made again. Cups were knocked over and rolled away, and pans tumbled and clashed. This training was already helping him improve...  
Maybe he wouldn't be such a dead end now.  
  
Time for the hard part: bringing them back. On a cue from the crocodile, Sly, electric field restored, zapped over to him and the connection between tail and head (and C and T) was made, and all at once they were practically crushed by the collected clutter, piling higher and higher.  
"[Now, Sly, now tap- tap him again,]" he heard Kroko call, presumably while trying to dodge the wave himself.  
A brief reprieve, then more pulsing voltage, and the blocks were apart and the pile fell away with a series of clangs.  
"[Well done, that's good. One more time, Dolly? Okay, one more time.]"  
  
Lilo could almost see this as a routine of sorts, a program for a mechanical toy to follow. Rotate blocks, put together, blast away. Rotate blocks, wait for the battery, be touched, be touched again, wait for the shaking world to pass. Repeat until one cannot see straight or the object-enemies have given up.  
Simple and clear.  
  
But so much potential to go wrong, especially when Sly kept shocking him even when a tossed-around Kroko said stop. "[Blocks on, blocks off,]" he said at every touch, at a quicker pace. "[Blocks on blocks off blocks on blocks off blocks on blocks off!]" Around them both, in front of the veil of black dots, the debris danced.  
"[You, you can stop OW now, Sly. We can EEK move on.]"  
"[But blocks on blocks ooooooff! It's fun, like a button to press! And Lilo might will be used to it soon, if I blocks on enough.]"  
  
That did it. Lilo had grabbed Sly by the head and the base of his tail before he even knew what he was doing with him.  
  
"[No!  **No!** ]" Kroko scolded, surprisingly loudly, when he was done. "[Lilo, that is  **not**  helping! Untie him right now!]"  
  
****  
  
 _Item #3 on DSTA: Anti-Surprise-Attack Practice._  
  
Things can change a lot in about three minutes. Kroko had apologised for yelling at Lilo forty times, so Dolly had taken back the reins while he worked his guilt out. Sly was unknotted and looking at the raised side of the road in fascination. "[Whatcha doing with those?]"  
Dolly was one away from being done with lining up some of the bits and bobs just behind the highest point of a roadside hill. "[If Wood catches us in an ambush and there's more of them, we've got to be prepared for that too.]" She adjusted the angle of a small yellow cushion with frills on the sides. "[The idea is, and this applies to you too, Lilo: you go from one end of this bit to the other. I throw these down at you, and you have to dodge them through shields, speed, what have you.]"  
  
The two were quickly redirected to the starting point, just after the turn in the road where that last fight had taken place. Frankly, Lilo thought that pots and pans would do less damage to him if caught than the ferrets and bears had done, but whatever floated their boats.  
"[Sly, you'd better wait up on this one,]" she said preemptively. "[Don't want any crashing. Lilo, start running. This isn't gonna complete itself.]"  
  
Along the road Lilo went, looking up at the sheep as he walked, just to make sure she was going to do it right. After a few steps, she threw a small hard thing at him, but it missed and landed at his feet.  
"[Uh, ignore that. Keep going.]"  
The next object, one of the cardboard slices, didn't even make it anywhere near him.  
"[All right, so I don't have such a good aim, what do you want from me?!]" she snarled. "[Go on!]"  
  
At that defensive remark, he picked up the pace. Though not by much - the slower he went, the less likely he was to be blindsided. That was logical, right?  
Objects rained down from the hill, one, sometimes two or three at a time. Rubbish, more pans, and at one point what looked like a blue hairbrush with the bristles snapped off. Every time, he waited for them to land. Sometimes, if they skirted near enough, he would fiddle with his blocks and try to shield them away, but that worked less often than it failed because they came so fast. Not enough time to make sure they were perfectly aligned, for no ambiguity.  
  
Still, he managed to make it through to the other side with only a bump on the head from the hairbrush to show for it. The road behind him looked very much like a cargo truck had passed through and tipped over, but he had done something right, and no one would call him stupid or incompetent for...  
"[Excuse me, Lilo?]"  
  
...oh purple-strewn hell, what had he done wrong  _this_  time?  
  
"[Do you know what an ambush  _is_?]" Dolly asked. Her voice was calmly sweet, but toxicity glinted underneath. Lilo was half inclined to run back to Kroko to get away, but he and Dub had already started picking the stuff back up and returning it to the side. Was he still apologising? He didn't look any less guilty.  
"[Lilo, look at me and answer the question.]"  
Eventually, he just shook his head. What else could he do?  
  
"[An ambush is a sudden attack by a lot of things or toys. And if you're going to get out of one, you  _have to grasp the concept of **getting a goddamn rush on!**_ ]" She broke into a growl and a blaze at the tail end, half startling and half comforting in that it had been missing since the first confrontation. "[You don't have  **time**  to sit around and make your blocks fit bloody exact! Just  _bash them together_! It's not that hard!]"  
He promptly did so, sending her tumbling again. Hey, she'd asked. "[No - ow - I didn't mean right  **now!** ]"  
  
Sly picked this perfect moment to butt in from slightly further to the left than when he'd started: "[Does that mean it's my go-turn?]"  
"[No it does--]" Then, a whiplash change of mind, it seemed. "[Fine, yes it does, just go!]"  
"[Okay, Ma'am Sir.]"  
  
Dolly thankfully left Lilo to his own devices, shifting focus to getting Sly to dodge the re-arranged items on the hill. (Dub stuck close, ever vigilant against any grass fires like in the forest.) The first thing she threw, Sly dodged extra quickly, perking her spirits up and the blaze down.  
But then it all went rather pear-shaped.  
"[Sly, what are you doing? Stay on the road -- no, I have to throw those to you aaand you're hitting them again.]"  
"[I said you, Dolly, they're the enemy,]" he said as he bashed the cushion with his tail. "[Why wait for them to come to me to hit when I can come to them to hit, to hit to hit to hit hit?]"  
  
Dolly didn't actually explode in flames this time, merely slamming her front hooves onto the ground for emphasis. "[ **AM. BUSH.**  Does that ring any bells?!]"  
He glanced off to either side, then forward again. "[No bells, no. Only cushions and pans. But your ears could make good ones if there aren't any others.]" And he promptly tugged on her right ear twice. "[Ding ding~!]"  
"[Don't you dare-- Let go of that!]" She yanked hard to break free of what looked like a tight grip. "[Don't touch those. I don't like anyone touching my ears.]"  
  
Kroko had returned to his own blanket and was watching the conversation from on top of it. "[That wasn't nice, Sly,]" he added now. "[Say sorry too.]"  
"[But that time it was Lilo's fault.]"  
They didn't need a wind to know that Dolly was perplexed. "[How is you pulling my ears in any way Lilo's--]"  
"[Be _cause_  you yelled at him together before,  _and_  he's got a red stomach!]"  
  
"[I... I don't... You know what, forget it. Let's just put this crap away and get out of here before anybody else gets hurt.]"  
  
\---------------  
  
It wasn't often one could say that the long stretch of walking had been, by all other standards, the best part of the day. But so far this was becoming increasingly true for Lilo.  
He had returned to his status as the quiet one, which meant no more questions, and no more guilt at his silence. Sly had stopped being "intrusively annoying", having downgraded to merely "high-speed pesky". And on top of that, he didn't have to carry Kroko's blanket for him anymore; through a patch of trial and error, the greener reptile had discovered that he could balance it on top of his back and moving arms if he flew completely straight. This did make turning difficult and crash-landings more frequent, but it was better than nothing.  
  
This wasn't to say that the training hadn't been productive at all. His shield could come more easily now that he didn't have to be precise about it (even if it eased him to be). He had gotten vaguely used to the inevitable electric shocks. And he had learned one important thing in particular: for the elected leader, Dolly was not very well organized. He suspected that, though, would come in time. Skills usually did.  
Yet... walking had less bad bits, less insulting bits. It had more calm and less fighting and less pains in his body. So in that regard, walking was much better for him, and he didn't mind it at all.  
  
The best thing by far about it was the view. The sky was wider here, with no vast number of closely locked trees to block its presence. It wasn't completely blue, but nor was it black or grey. It was still very difficult to tell the exact time, but it felt like they were in mid-afternoon territory now, breathy and cold and free.  
Rather than suffocating them all, the trees instead popped up occasionally on the side or in the changing horizon. Each new corner turned provided a landscape free of any more dumps, instead giving way to long wakes of grass and fields, flowerless but eternal in their presence. Even rivers came along every once in a while, darting alongside them like an overly eager child. (Kroko tended to crash more and switch sides whenever one emerged.)  
Cars and trucks thundering ahead of them were rare to non-existent. Once, a red motorbike came charging in their direction, bringing his nightmare surging back, but most of them had the sense to rush to the other side of the road, and Sly moved so fast that his being late to the concept didn't make much difference anyway.  
  
He could see the others walking up front, keep an eye on them as the rear view. Dolly bounded and sprang, back to the grass, heels ahead and heels behind, like a logical sheep should. Sly came out ahead, as far away from him as possible. Kroko and his blanket watched the skies. Dub alternated between rushing on and stopping to breathe.  
And he himself just walked, shifting weight from side to silent side.  
  
Everything out here was still. Peaceful. If he pushed all that had happened aside, he could almost believe there was no hurry or danger; he could pretend that they were all better, cured of the things they had been admitted for, and just taking a casual walk along a path to enjoy the outside world and all the beauty it had to offer.  
...But no. There was danger. It was part of the 'superpower' package. That was evident every time the snake moved, or Wood came back into the conversation of others.  
And there was no 'better'. At least, not for him. Better and cured, for Lilo, would imply that he had a voice. That he had no reason to hold his blocks as firmly as he did. That more than a few aspects of his old life remained focused in his mind, instead of pushed out by his isolation and the confusion of all who tried to talk to him.  
The confusion of the one who - he guessed - had brought him here, all that time ago...  
  
A word, a resonant memory word, whispered itself to him; whether on the wind or from the recesses of his thoughts, he couldn't tell.  
 _Rose..._  
  
"[Guys! Guys, I can see-]" Kroko fell just in front of Dub, righting himself more quickly. "[Guys, I can see a town right ahead, look!]"  
  
A town?  
He looked ahead, not realizing until then that he had lost focus. Sure enough, past this last curve, dark silhouettes against the sky in the shape of buildings, like giant Lego houses.  
A town.  
That meant people, society and all that it entailed. It meant more toys, and it meant a place to get shelter, and it meant they could find Wood.  
It meant they really had to speed up before the sun shot down again and it was too late to go any further.  
  
So they ran.  **He**  ran, more than he'd had to run yesterday to flee the threat; now he was racing right towards it, in a sense. He would have laughed if he could.  
The world around him was not important now; trees mixed with sky mixed with road with voice with hope. The darkness and light ahead was the goal.  
  
And then, past a closer tree, past an apartment complex, and they were there, on the outskirts and then in the depths of civilization and interaction and reminders of what might have once been home, Sly laughing for him, the happiness and relief palpable in the air...  
...and then they screeched to a halt to take a good proper look at the place in which they had arrived.  
  
"[Oh...]"  
  
It was not that this was a bad town, not at all. It was clean, and full of brick buildings, on every side, at every angle. There would be no shortage of shelter here, if they could find one with less open exposure.  
There were people in this town, there had to be, but they weren't outside. They were inside, locked in the warmth of the homes and houses. Even the implication of their presence, or lack thereof, wasn't what caught them so off guard.  
Some curtains were drawn, and what few were open showed dazzling displays of pink, green and yellow, echoed on some of the lampposts above in little blinking lights. A banner stretched between two of them, a faint mint green with crude kindergarten-esque red lettering spelling out a two-word phrase.  
 **Those** , the words, were the problem. Kroko managed to read them aloud, blanket back in his hand, just to confirm their meaning for all who knew it.  
  
 _Glücklich Stephanitag._  
"[Happy Boxing Day...]"  
  
The implications, the reality, washed over them all for a long and sobering minute. Dub - having gotten a quick translation, he presumed - frowned and scuffed the ground with his left foot.  
  
"[...That's good,]" said Sly to break the silence.  
What?  
"[That's okay good. Boxing Day is okay, if we're here! We're here and we're arrived even if Wood didn't think so, we are, and it doesn't matter that we're late for Christmas. ...Or am I thinking unforward?]"  
  
Dolly managed to shake herself at that, emerging from being struck dumb; a smile crept into her tone. "[No. No, Sly, you're not. You're right for once.]"  
And he was. They hadn't walked all this way, from one end of a long unforgiving road to another, to let Boxing Day ruin their achievement. This would be something to rub in Wood's face, yes it would. All they needed to do now was get out of the road and find a place to hide from the night.  
  
But before they could do this, from seemingly out of the blue (pink green yellow) came the deafening and fast-paced barking of a dog.  
  
Dolly's piercing shriek stifled that outside noise before anyone could stop either. Her wool became pointed, full of the telltale crackle, echoed in the air. Lightning.  
Time became fast and slow both at once, in that weird way it usually does in the middle of a dangerous zone.  
In one second, a bolt hit Sly, sending a ripple through him from wide-eyed head to rotating tail.  
In another second, one barely missed Kroko, who was fortunately grounded enough that it didn't arc across.  
  
The third bolt hit  **him**.  
  
****  
  
When he had regained the use of his eyes, he noticed he was stretched out onto the ground, staring up at the darkening sky. The barking was faint and loud, it hurt his ears.  
  
By the time the rest of him stopped feeling like jelly, he managed to sit up, to find his surroundings fundamentally the same, but differently composed. His blocks were at his feet. The sheep had moved backwards by about a metre, not quite upright, and was shaking and struggling to breathe evenly. Kroko and Dub were keeping their distance.  
"[Calm down, Dolly,]" the former kept saying, twisting the corner of his pillow round and round. "[Dolly, calm down. It's okay. It's going away. Calm down, Dolly.]"  
It - the dog, skipping ahead of its very flustered owner - turned out to be a Jack Russel terrier only slightly taller than any of them here.  
  
Sly did not count, for Sly had completely disappeared.  
  
What had happened? Simple to figure out. Judging by the angle of the blocks, the jolt had forced them together for the opposite effect, and everyone had gone flying. Particularly the snake, probably powered up by the voltage seeping through him.  
Where had he gone? How fast had he disappeared? Even if everyone pulled themselves together in the next minute, by then the splinter toy could have gone anywhere. A split was not good, definitely not good. Not here, not now.  
  
Kroko edged a bit nearer to close the distance. "[Are you calm now, Dolly?]"  
She faltered, then nodded. Her breaths had become less erratic, true, but the evidence of her fear lingered for the second time. But she was calm enough.  
"[I'm glad. Can you get up? You need to get up so we can go find Sly. Please?]"  
She managed to relocate her feet on the ground and come to standing.  
  
He had to chase away the pessimism scratching at the active spots in his brain. The street lights were beginning to glow yellow, and their path was further illuminated by the strings of fairy lights sweeping over the air to brighten up the tail end of the holiday. This, and the fact that Sly too was so many colours, would make finding him less of a fool's errand, he reassured himself.  
Indeed, it only took about two minutes of walking (or so he guessed) for them to pick up a low groan and a hiss.  
  
"[Sly? Is that you? Yell if you can hear us!]" Kroko called down the road from where it came.  
  
It was only after a silence that his voice came shakily back. "[Guuuys, I accidentally went sparks  **too**  fast and share-fallen into a heavy again...]"  
  
What he actually meant, as they discovered when they caught up with him, was that he'd crashed into a door. The front door of a two-storey house, to be exact. No lights were on inside, nor any Christmas trees, so it lent itself to reason that there were no people either.  
It appeared too good to be true, Lilo thought as he managed to push the door inward and sneak everyone inside for a tour of the place. But no, it was. Not only no humans, but it was completely clear of most of the furniture in every room. Carpets were laid down, wallpapers were fading and peeling, there were no curtains. The only signs that it had once been occupied, aside from some incomprehensible graffiti by the stairs, were counters in the kitchen and a large wooden cupboard in what he guessed was the living room - furniture he knew to be too fixed down and bulky respectively to move around.  
The place had been abandoned. And now it looked as though it would be the toys' first genuine stroke of luck. Human loss, their gain.  
  
"[Big, roomy, lots of windows...]" Kroko surveyed the place with increasing fascination. "[I think I like it here already. It's a good place to stay for now.]"  
He didn't know about anyone else, but deep down, he understood the other had spoken for the hippo too.  
He looked around from floor to ceiling and down again, then to Sly, who was rubbing his head better after the collision. "[Well done for finding this, Sly. I think you make a very good navigator.]"  
Sly stuck his tongue out again at that. "[Nah, I don't think. It was Dolly that did it really. She got scared and zapped me into the heavy.]"  
  
A giggle came bursting out of Kroko at that; even Lilo felt the side of his mouth twitch into a grin. "[Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't. But that is a good point. You hear that, Dolly? You helped.]"  
She just snorted part-fearfully, not quite back in neutral state yet.  
"[Oh Dolly, please cheer up! You really  _did_  get off on the right foot, like you wanted. It took a scare like that to get you started, but right foots are right foots, right?]"  
  
"[You guys are assholes.]"


	7. Nitimur in Vetitum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter theme** :  recklessness  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Frozen - Celldweller](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nD3fR6YiYS4)  
>  _Originally published on August 17th 2012_

Dub couldn't sleep because.  
Because.  
Because why?  
  
It wasn't like it was still day; the Christmas (sorry, Boxing Day) lights outside were shining brightly, but it was still the only light source in this place. It wasn't like they were all in the same boat; everyone else had probably dropped off by now, not that he could see anyone but the shadow of a curled up Kroko from where he was lying. It wasn't like his current bed was any less comfortable than the dirt, even if it was wrong.  
It wasn't even like he wouldn't be asleep if he could. When he hadn't been running, he'd been walking. He'd slapped a hippo and been beaten up by a snake in the name of fighting. He hadn't had this much exercise since long before he'd gotten here; that much to do in the day should have tired him out, but his eyes would not shut.  
  
He just couldn't sleep because. That was the reason life was giving him, and he'd just have to put up with it.  
  
What time was it, besides nighttime? He thought he'd seen a clock somewhere, but it was too dark to climb out of his makeshift bed, go back and double check. He was literally lying in the bottom drawer of a set in the kitchen, tossing and turning in a failed attempt to make the wood feel slightly less, well, wooden.  
Sleeping in drawers. In all his time with Max, he'd never slept in a drawer that he hadn't been allowed to sleep in. Most of the time he bunked either in that thick 'bliss in a bundle' beanbag chair beside his friend's double bed, or moved it into the hall when he had another someone over. Drawers were only the last resort, for the late night parties with the team that always had at least four people looking for a comfy spot.  
Here, there was no permission, no party, no Max.  
He felt like a criminal.  
  
He hadn't really liked the idea of everyone sleeping in the house, let alone the furniture, at the time either. Sure, he'd been grateful for finding a spot that wasn't a road or a tree, but surely there were better places? A house with actual humans who had given them room to stay, for example?  
"Isn't this mooching, sleeping here? I don't wanna mooch," he'd said, not even daring to touch the drawer at first. "It doesn't feel right."  
Dolly had tried to put him at ease with "Well, they cannae leave thes fancy furniture lyin' aroond an' expect us t' nae use it", and then guided Lilo and Sly somewhere else before he could call her out on completely missing the point.  
And now it was too late and he was sleeping in a drawer whether he liked it or not. Or rather, trying to sleep in a drawer and failing miserably because nothing he did was  **working**.  
 _Aaaagh!_  
  
He hadn't gotten on as well with Dolly as he'd first hoped a few days ago. (Steiff, had it really only been a few days?) Language was pretty much the only thing they had in common, and even then, with her accent as thick as it was and her usual refusal to translate between him and the others, that was a stretch.  
Her mood was just so different, not only from hour to hour, but from everyone around her. So much fear, so much hate, so much unhappiness - there was very little middle ground where they could all just breathe. When the rain came in, she looked, to put it bluntly, on the verge of giving up on everything and letting it wash over her. Her eyes staring out into an unknown, almost dead...  
He'd never been able to understand people like that, to be honest. People without enough energy to even want to live.  
  
There was a lot of things he didn't understand about Dolly. She'd "subtly" dressed him down for that impression he'd done earlier. That still ticked him off - he'd done his damn best considering that A: impersonations weren't his thing at all, and B: the socks were the only small black things he could find in that dump. Besides, it had worked for Sly. (His hurt head could testify to that.)  
But she wouldn't let it go. She'd complained about it to him, to herself, to Lilo - bloody  **Lilo**! The one who couldn't talk back!  
  
 _"Bitching about my impression again, Dolly?"  
"Whit makes ye so sure? Ah coold've bin talkin' abit whit a guid job Sly did, ye ken, loch a leader shood."  
"What makes me so sure is it's all you've been angry about for the past however many minutes."  
"Aw reit, ye got me. Aam still pissed aff at somethin' ye messed up. 'at a crime?"  
"Oh, suddenly trying to act how he would act is messing up?"  
"DID YE E'EN LISTEN T' YERSELF? "Didn't mean to this, didn't mean to that"? "Let me be  **actually pretty compellin'** "? Yoo're nae 'actin' hoo he wood act', yoo're sugarcoatin' th' shit he's dain!"  
"I'm not saying he hasn't done - I just don't think - "  
"Dammit, Dub, Aam startin' tae hink ye really wood raither be wi' heem insteid ay us! Ye want t' go fin' heem an' start aff his wee personal army?"  
"I told you, he's already started it, so I can't start it even if I wanted to. Which I don't."  
"Tch. Ye coold've fooled me."_  
  
He folded his arms and rolled over to look at the lowest edge of the inner drawer, his face hurting from irritation. Childish, yes. Justified, also yes.  
 _Stupid Dolly._  All he'd done was try to get into character. It wasn't  **his**  fault that self praise was the sort of thing Dr Wood...  
  
At the ringing of his name, his anger faded, and the chill gradually consumed him.  
  
The coldness that had crept over Dub on that first day, before the asylum became off-limits, was becoming quietly familiar to him. Every time he saw him, heard his voice, focused on him and how he was supposed to be afraid of or angry at him (which was often),  _it_  came instead. He'd taken to calling it "the chill" when he thought of it, because that was exactly what it was - it didn't freeze over like the time did; it just moved over and around him, like frost on a window.  
Before it had been nowhere. Now it was everywhere. It was in the pit of his stomach and around the edges of his heart. It was caught in the gaps between flesh and shell and in the stitches and itches on his feet. It made him uncomfortably aware that he was a stuffed toy, seeping along the fibres in his arms and legs and body, turning every little movement to ice.  
He'd never felt anything like it in his short life, and it sort of scared him.  
  
Nor had the others felt it at all, he assumed. When Wood was in their area, he mostly spawned anger, or at least a rebellious streak, and a crapload of fighting. Dub had never reached that level of emotion.  
It wasn't that Wood hadn't done bad things, he always insisted. The 'trigger' incident was more his fault than hers, in hindsight. But was Dub really the only one to think that kicking him out, potentially permanently even then, was a  **bit**  harsh?  
Why?  
  
Maybe it was because he related to the raven in a different way. Wood too spoke English, almost impeccably, with that hint of the accent still in there. And even when most of the time he spoke in German, Dub could barely understand it, so didn't get what he'd said that made other toys - or, let's face it, one other toy - so incensed. Dub needed someone else to talk to, and fast.  
Maybe it was that Wood was shaping up as a better leader all around. Dolly had her moments and all, but Wood was manufactured to do this. He'd been a doctor for as long as Dub had been in the clinic, for even longer. He knew how to take control and call the shots. She didn't.  
Maybe it was that Wood was just... better than them, Dub, period.  
  
The timer was in his shell again, in the padded bit across his chest, surrounded by the flakes of inner frost. His secret power, one that in usage wasn't actually very secret unless he was careful. And yet, for something supposedly so vital, it was weak. Secret weapon meant limited usage, and the fact his energy slipped away from him every time he used it to escape or get a decent angle didn't help.  
What good was a timer against fire and ice? Against gravity changing?  
And what good was any of it against someone who could make the whole world around him change to fit an idea?  
  
No, Wood really shouldn't have gone. That would be a dream, all of them back on the same side. Not Dub going to him, like she had insinuated; Wood not going away in the first place. They'd have never left the asylum, and even if they had they wouldn't be in this just barely building. Spieler would have come back and made them all into heroes, and then they'd all have  **gotten**  somewhere.  
And Dub would have been closer to the raven, the sensations in his body reminded him. No separation. No doubt as to whether he was succeeding or failing. Common ground. Communication. Friendship. Working together.  
Being together, his feathery blackness right there, close enough to touch, to feel...  
To make it so much colder.  
  
The dream shifted into a different kind of fantasy, and the chill rose up along his throat.  
  
 _No. What?_  
A hidden, deeper part of him tried to be rational, despite the invasion of deep blue cold in creeping tendrils, between the layers and lines.  
 _Why are you thinking about doing that? Why do you want him to look at you like that?_  
Ask the self a stupid question, get no answers.  
 _You've known he speaks English for, what, three sleeps? That's as bad as thirty seconds in this sort of thing._  
Body language broke all barriers in this "sort of thing". It was shallow, but Dub had never been that deep.  
  
 _This hasn't always been there, has it?_  
It seemed so. The first chill back then, the chill here, were alike. It was more intense, but it wasn't changing; he'd merely realized what it always had been.  
Maybe he remembered it wrong, maybe he didn't. Nothing mattered but the now.  
  
 _But it can't be._  
It could.  
 _It probably isn't._  
It was.  
 _Is this real? Are you just exaggerating feeling bad for him into... this?_  
  
He doubted it.  
No pity could affect him this way. No one but Wood  **had**  affected him this way.  
That, as far as he was concerned, made it real, all too painfully dangerously real.  
  
 _So what now, genius?_  
  
The answer was simple, for there was only one: forget rationality and accept it. Max had never been rational when he had found the people who brought on images like this. So why should he?  
He had to be better for Max, after all, the part of him gradually slipping out of consciousness thought. He needed to be better, or he wouldn't have been admitted in the first place. This would help make him better, even if only in mood.  
Better for Max.  
Better for Wood...  
  
Dub's brain gave up at this point, in every sense, and he fell both into sleep and into the freeze-burn rush of attraction.  
  
\---------------  
  
The faceless lady haunted his dreams again. He opened the door to the house, not like this one, the one with the chess tiles from corner to corner, and let her in. She made the grandfather clock slow down and freeze in its path before he could, and stopped at the picture of Max on the wall.  
She turned it upside down, then upright again. Down and up and down, and then she stepped away and it moved on its own, spinning around and around at a dizzying speed.  
The hand that held the cane came down to stroke his head, with a gentle scratch, and it felt like feathers. Her support crashed to the ground.  
  
By the time he emerged from it in that abrupt way he usually woke up, it was morning, and there was actual sunlight in the kitchen. He got out of that drawer as quickly as he could, if a little unsteadily, and managed to confirm that Kroko was sleeping on the sill of the front-most living room window, and Dolly behind the glass doors of one of those wooden display cabinets people kept DVDs inside. The place looked even barer in the light of day, and human presence could not be seen, heard or smelt. The carpet underneath him was yellow with fancy diamonds in green, and there were excessively smudged specks of blue and pink on the wallpaper that looked a bit like flowers if he closed his eyes. His pseudo-bedroom, meanwhile, sported a linoleum floor and white painted walls, and the counters too were wood.  
Wood everywhere. It was like the house itself was rubbing in his realization of the night.  
  
One by one, everyone else woke up, and a huddle of toys slowly began to form on the floor. There was a scary period when Dolly couldn't open the glass door from the inside, but Sly soon fixed that and then she was down with the rest of them, in a much better mood than yesterday, grey cloud over her head aside. Even if she didn't actually let Dub in on things at the same time as everybody else, one step at a time was better than nothing.  
  
Still, when they all left a few minutes later, stepping into the sun proper, he tried to tease some of that elusive information out of her as they walked in no particular direction. "So, we looking for Wood or trying to escape him?"  
"Whatever we've got tae dae first. Eh'd loch tae hink he's skipped toon ur somethin' but, ye ken, Sod's law..."  
 _Trust me, I know._  
  
He glanced around at the changing road, all the twinkling lights and the tinsel in the windows catching the day, before speaking again. "If worse comes to worse, I just keep a low profile, right?"  
"As law as ye can. Save it fur tight spots an' stealth attacks, that's it. Dornt lit Wood see ye toochin' 'at timer."  
"Dolly, he thinks it's just part of my natural speed and strength; I'm pretty sure we're safe." He quickly checked on one of his biceps by flexing it. Yup, still looking good.  
  
She stopped them both in her tracks and looked at him with worry, into his eyes rather than at his muscles. "Dub, thes is serious. Jist... dornt dae anythin' glaikit ur reckless, okay?" she said. "If he cracks 'at secrit, we'll lose one ay uir advantages, an' we're only jist aheid as it is."  
"Okay, okay. If I do that, promise you won't tell me what to do in German this time?"  
Her look was broken by a cringe and a roll of thunder. "Ah keep  **tellin'**  ye, Ah dornt remember daein' 'at!"  
"Course you don't." He smirked as they set off again.  
"Honest!!"  
  
After a while, they wandered into what looked like a shopping district, judging by the windows and buildings full of food, gift items and hungry customers. It was hard not to get lost in the bustle of people in the streets or distracted by the smell of fresh biscuits and cake in the cool air (gingerbread and icing sugar and cranberries and melted chocolate and oh god, marzipan too, their favourite, face against the glass); Kroko had to stop Sly from stealing a treat or two from inside a bakery more than once. It was in front of what was presumably a newsagents that they even found the name of the town, Sassnitz.  
Very few shoppers noticed the toys, leading to a couple of narrow escapes from falling winter shoes, and those who did didn't speak to them. And yet the human presence was overwhelming, in its mass, its strength, its relative unfamiliarity after so long away from them, its incomprehensibility blending into a froth of excited contented words and noise and seasonal cheer...  
  
None of the humans were recognizable with their blond bits and bright eyes and long short legs. None of them were Max, or anyone close to him.  
  
A doubt that had reared its ugly head yesterday, under the welcoming banner, came crawling back.  _Max won't even still be here,_  it whispered spitefully.  _When'd you come to Germany? About July, August-ish? Now it's past Christmas, and he hasn't come looking for you yet._  
No, this wasn't the time to worry, no matter how much his insides insisted and twisted. Max would. Preferrably soon, but either way he would.  
 _But he's at home right now, probably. He'd be here if he was looking, if he cared about you one bit--_  
  
"Don't even  **think**  he doesn't!" he shouted to drown it out.  
"Hm?"  
"Uh. Nothing to do with you, Dolly."  
  
Dub's disagreement switched to thought:  _Max still cares. I'm still his high performance turtle. He's just back at home with the team. Flights and hotels in Germany don't come cheap._  
 _They do if you mooch in drawers,_  his doubt begged to differ.  
His hands clenched into fists.  _Not the point. Max might not be here now, but he's gonna be. Once he has enough money, he'll come back and tell everyone who's gotten mixed up in this that there was a mistake and I don't need to be committed for "over-training" anymore, and everything will be back to normal.  
  
It's Max, after all. I can trust him._  
  
His inner conversation halted at the very end of the street, a metre or two past a busy toy store with an empty basket in front, when they found their almost target. Or rather, him and his entourage: the toys they'd fought before and a whole lot more of them, all different. Kroko counted at least twelve.  
Dub didn't keep track of who ran to who, who spoke first, what they said. It was all in German again; banter like this probably didn't seem worth translating to their somewhat leader.  
Besides, all that he could see right now, all he was interested in looking at to make him feel better, was Wood.  
  
Dub knew all too well what the raven looked like. It was clear in the very word. Dark body, blue beak, no visible eyes, wings and feet. A simple design, memorable to all of them.  
But in the light of the truth and the chill, clawing over him from inside, it was like he was really seeing him for the first time. The slope of the lower body, down and across and up in a perfect curve. The way the backs of his feet lifted first when he stepped backwards. How fuzzy the hood of his head really was, a jet-black mane, a burst of face-hiding secrecy with a jewel in the middle, the colour of it, the shape, a glint in his being made him want to...  
  
...then black mixed with white and he'd been knocked over by a panda, his weight in fluff, dive-bombed in the head by a tiny blob of fur.  
 _Ack, I spaced out. Crap._  
  
First priority: get his attackers off of him. A simple double kick of the legs took care of the panda, and he rolled out of the way of the streak, a bat up close, making it slam into the ground. Panda was coming back, quick dodge and a push.  
Second: hide. He fled the scene, almost tripping over the rat from before, and ducked between the toy store and a sweet shop the other side.  
Third: be useful. One quick fumble and his security and weapon and secret was in his hand, and the thirty seconds of pause began with a beep.  
  
There, room to catch up and think about what to do next, how to help matters. He snuck out again and returned to where the fight had erupted.  
No humans caught in the violence. In fact, looking back, every person in town seemed to be swarming around the shops like flies. Good, less damage done that way.  
He stepped around the others, looking for Wood, pushing through the air. Walking around in frozen time had never felt quite right to him, the seconds physically trying to slow him down. Air was like water, the ground was unresponsive to his footsteps, the silence was absolute.  
The panda, bat and rat were stuck halfway through getting up; Kroko, hovering nearly in reach, was milliseconds away from the wing smack of a tawny owl. The bear and ferret had snuck up on Sly, caught at an awkward angle.  
A few more steps and he saw a new perspective. Dolly was all legs and snowy pebbles, shoving off a big brown rabbit and another differently-designed sheep with pale rainbow stripes across the wool. Two kittens, one pink and one blue, were in the middle of being pushed apart by a Lilo more prepared for this, their faces contorted into fright and panic, their paws reaching for each other.  
"God, Lilo, no need to torture them," he half-joked, knowing he couldn't hear.  
  
Then, there, right in the middle of it all, stood Wood, flanked by a swan with a tiny bundle in its wings he guessed was another bird. His own wings weren't stretched out, but he was looking at Dolly pretty blatantly. What was he going to do? Another one of those vision delusion things?  
What was it she had said? Stealth attack. He fell into a shadow just as the timer went off and the world resumed its movement, kittens falling and owl slapping.  
Wood might have been haunting him for most of the week, but he was still technically the enemy. Dub had to get him off of the others' tails, cold or no cold.  
  
The toys were all over the place now, scratching and biting and ducking. He crouched, put the timer away deep into his shell, looked for a good time to get in there. Wood was facing away from him properly now, perfectly unruffled even from the back, that straight back leading down to the very nicely formed--  
 _Oi! Focus, you._  
A wing twitched, Dolly noticed something that wasn't there, and his chance came. A run, a jump and a leap on top of him, almost bringing him down with a single tackle.  
  
Wood hit back, trying to shake him off, but he clung, sneaking in a few kicks himself. Slaps and stinging pains and thuds and then they were rolling, and Dub found himself at the far end of the alley he'd just come out of, thrown off so hard he actually bounced slightly when he landed.  _Oww- Son of a bitch, that hurt._  
No spectators, no other toys to get in the way and the raven was on him again, pushing him into the stony ground, cushioned by the padding on his back, but no less painful. Wood's wings were pinning his shoulders down, room to punch him, defend, get him off...  
...but Wood's hands were on his shoulders. Well-groomed Wood was touching scruffy him, and it was soft against his skin, little frosty tingles where they lay. He could see and feel the hairs of the hood above him, just near enough to reach out and stroke, and he again wondered what it would be like to move his head up by about three centimetres, just three, no more, no less, to close this ever there and so small gap between them, to  _feel_  him against him, to feel the frozen nails dig into his flesh, so many different shades of blue against the night black, just like during the...  
  
"I'm still here, you know."  
"huhwha?" he heard himself mumble, opening eyes he'd just noticed had closed.  
"Oh good, you  _are_  awake," said Wood. "You zoned out for a minute there."  
 _Again? Dammit, Wood, what are you **doing**  to me?!_  
  
"No, disregard the past tense, actually. You are aware that you have the chance to retaliate right now, aren't you?"  
"Would've thought you wouldn't want that. Being punched is kinda painful," he tried to bluff.  
It didn't work. "Don't be pedantic. You hit me hard enough out there, why would you stop now? I'm even giving you a head start by talking instead of kicking your head in..."  
  
Was he... taunting him? He must have been, the smug - he probably deserved a punch just for that, Dub knew.  
But he didn't want to. To punch right now would mean to lose the wings keeping him grounded, keeping that feeling bubbling away in his everywhere.  
So he didn't rise to the bait. He had to be the bigger turtle here.  
  
Then, it didn't matter much. When it became pretty clear that the punch was not in fact coming from either side, Wood stood up, taking that feather touch away anyway.  _Damned if you do, damned if you don't,_ he thought.  
...either side?  
"Wait, you're not hitting me either," Dub said as he found his own footing. "Bit silly to tell me off for it, isn't it?"  
"You were the first to stop dealing blows. What is the expression? An eye for an eye? You gave me leeway, I gave you some."  
"Yeah, but you could've turned me into a puddle on the ground by now."  _Like I'm not already just looking at you..._  
  
"Do you really give me so little credit, Dub?"  **That**  wasn't helping either, the way Wood said his name so bluntly. "Am I not a fair fighter?"  
"No. No you're not. Five of us versus thirteen of this Association you've got going on isn't fair."  
"Four vs ten. Considering you held your own against my projected army two days ago--"  
"That wasn't real though," he pointed out, irritated again. What was this, another therapy session?  
"My point still stands. As teams, we are relatively equally matched. Obviously I have the stronger leadership skills, but four of you are physically superior, power-wise."  
"Heh, can't argue with that." With any of it. His timer rested inside him uselessly as if to prove it.  
  
Wood briefly turned away, staring around the corner into what sounded like a hubbub of clashing. "Perhaps it's for the best that we stopped when we did. I may have a high proficiency in fighting, but to do so too much would not help me maintain my charisma..." He moved a wing up to stroke his hood a couple of times. "...nor would it make me any more attractive."  
"Why any more? You're already hot as hell even like this - "  
  
The argument crashed to a halt by way of Dub's mouth clamping down to block anything else stupid and true and unfiltered coming out of it. He could feel his neck retreating into his protective shell.  _Shiiit. Shit shit shit!_  
  
Wood, however, didn't even flinch at that. Instead, he lowered his wing and looked back, and his beak twitched.  
"Really now?" he asked quietly, with a tone he could have sworn was faint approval and... triumph? ...Oh. Wood had set him up for this.  
  
He vaguely thought he should feel bad about walking right into it. But something, his look or his bloody cleverness, made that impossible.  
And hey: as confessions of the serious hots (and colds) for someone went, that one wasn't  **too**  awkward, considering.  
Max had made worse.  
  
"Y-yeah. Really," he managed at last.  
  
"...I'm not going to lie. I expected that from you. The whole thing."  
Dub didn't know whether to look out at his - his crush, there was really no other word for it - or at the ground right then. "Did I really make it that obvious?"  
"Subtlety is not your strong suit" was the reply, and he chose the ground. "You always did seem to lean more towards my side than, say, Kroko's."  
  
Back up at him, neck re-exposed. "What's Kroko got to do with any of this?"  
"Only that he and the others would not be as... How should I put it?" That black being came closer to him again at this point, looking right at him, hair's breadth away, pulse in his ears, shivering tantalizing, and yet something seemed off, he held back too much, too well. Scheming again? "Forgiving. As you are of the deeds I have done since we left."  
"Heh, I call you hot once and you're already trying to seduce me?" _because it's sort of working I want you touch me again_  
"Seduce? No," said Wood. "Remind you that the Claw Association is always open for anyone willing to see things from the right perspective? Perhaps."  
  
Yup. Scheming again. That certainly put a damper on the whole oh-god-he's-this-close-to-me thing.  
"Hate to break it to you, but just because you're hot doesn't mean I'll join you just like that," Dub said plainly, somehow finding the strength to back off. "I'm still a part of the team whether I agree with them or not. 'Sides, Dolly would go spare, and I'd be the one getting yelled at."  
"True, true..." A pause. "So you will return to punching me, no doubt."  
  
"What if I don't wanna? I said I'm not joining you. I never said I'd hurt you if you didn't ask for it. I mean, you don't hurt the ones you l--"  
The chill spiked as pain in his head.  _Get a grip, Dub!_  
"...you care about. You know?"  
  
The gem of his beak moved upwards in what looked like a smile, a secret one for the two of them to share in this corner of the battlefield, and he simply said, "An eye for an eye."  
  
Taking the hint, Dub ran as fast as he could out of the alley and back into the centre of the fighting, or what little there was left of it. Dolly, having moved into full fledged rain territory, had been tied up with a sizzling Sly on one hand; Lilo and a reluctant Kroko were struggling to pin down all of the lackey toys at once on the other.  
Just as Wood had said, the scales were evenly spread now.  
But all it took was the appearance of their leader behind him to tip them in the enemy's favour. How, he couldn't tell. A boost of confidence in the Association? Fright and confusion in the two still up and fighting? More delusions he couldn't see? Steiff only knew, but it resulted in some swift biting back from the rat and the rabbit and surprisingly the swan and all others pushed into that corner, until the crocodile and hippo were nearly as roughed up as Dolly and Sly were.  
  
Despite their giant instances of still being asylum patients at heart, they all knew a cue to get out of dodge when they saw it, and this they took. Even Dub, his timer finding another use at last.  
  
\---------------  
  
Unfortunately for him, getting out of dodge meant running down that shopping street, past the marzipan and the gingerbread and an additional smell of hot chocolate that smelt sweeter than ever now, the colours of the world looking fresher than ever, and back to the place they'd tried to half-escape.  
There would be more mooching tonight, no matter how much his moral compass hated it.  
  
Not that it could hate, not that any of him could hate anything right now, sitting in the corner of the living room behind the wrong side of the display cabinet. The compass was practically flying from how fast it was turning, and the chill was well and truly a part of him now, rushing from his head to his feet and back again, smoothly down and crackly up.  
  
On the downward sweep, one thought kept repeating itself at every turn.  _I've got a cru-ush._  The very word made him grin like a fool, a crush a  **crush**  a  _ **crush**_ , and it felt every bit as good as Max had always said it did. And Max had had a lot of crushes in the two years they'd known each other, so if anyone knew how it felt it was him. And now Dub too, obviously.  
The upward run, going against the grain, made his thoughts show more doubt.  
 _Of all the toys to get your crush on, it had to be Wood?_  
  
Wood was the enemy. He was the representative of literally everything he, Dolly, Kroko, Sly and Lilo were fighting against. He was the leader of something they'd mostly wanted no part of, even back in the asylum.  
Wood was also a damn good leader of that something, and he was gorgeous to boot (couldn't ignore that), and he wasn't hurting him right now. As long as Dub didn't hit him first, he would be safe, and the secret - secrets plural, this spark of something that could become an affair sooner or later probably counted as a secret - would be kept.  
Apart from anything else, he was the one making Dub feel this simple cold shallow giddiness of spirit, like he'd won a marathon, three marathons, in the same day, gold medals all around.  
On top of the world...  
  
Dub couldn't control that sort of thing, how one toy made him feel. He could control how to express it and how much it affected him, but not the feeling itself.  
And if he was going to make it through the next few battles (there would definitely be a next few if he knew Wood and the others) without zoning out again, so badly that he wouldn't be of any use at all, he would  _have_  to control it. Especially if Dolly was going to be pissed off at him as a result.  
  
The cold quietened down somewhat at this thought. He'd been kind of cruel to her yesterday, hadn't he? She'd just been trying to make sure he didn't go off on the wrong path, and he'd been snide in return. He'd been unreasonable in his demands for translations; she couldn't talk two languages at exactly the same time, after all.  
Funny how a crush could make what had seemed sensible behaviour come out horrid.  
  
"Dub, ye okay? Yoo've bin sittin' thaur jist grinnin' at naethin'."  
Talk of the devil, there she was now, poking her head between the cabinet and wall to look at him steadily again, and with her a perfect chance to make up for it.  
"Yeah, I'm fine, Dolly," he replied. Then, "Look, sorry about yesterday, okay? I wasn't in the best of moods there."  
"Pfft, nur was Ah. Dornt e'en fash yersel abit it," she said back, and for the first time he noticed the rain and its cloud were gone, replaced by more lush grass indoors. "Ye made up fur it by savin' mah ass back thaur."  
"I did?"  
  
"Ah saw ye tacklin' Wood. Guid use ay th' timer thaur. Almost loch yoo're actually thinkin'." She chuckled at her own joke.  
 _Oh Dolly, if only you knew what I was thinking about,_ Dub stopped himself from saying aloud just in time.  
  
Instead he said, "Speaking of thinking, I've been doing some. You don't like translating every little thing for me, right?"  
She nodded. "It is a bit ay a tension killer, aye."  
"But I can't understand anything you say unless it  **is**  translated. So how about I meet you halfway?"  
"Meanin'?" She cocked her head as best as she could when it was sandwiched between cupboard and blended flowers.  
"Meaning that, when you find the time, you could... possibly help me get better at the language? Teach me key phrases, maybe? I can work with you and the others more easily that way."  
  
This was true. What was also true, but again unvoiced, was that such strengthened loyalty would help make the Wood thing all the more secret. Someone making an effort to fit into the group couldn't possibly be lusting after the villain behind their backs, he hoped the logic would go.  
It'd only be until Max came back. Then the language barriers would no longer be an issue.  
  
Dolly seemed to accept this idea as much as he'd prayed: "That's. Actually a pretty guid idea. Well dain, Dub!"  
"Okay, how about right now?"  
Her eyes narrowed; he'd misstepped. "No,  **nae**  reit noo. Aam gettin' trainin' started again in ten minutes."  
  
"Ten minutes?! Look, I'm all for getting better at this -" especially considering his own glaring weaknesses, weapon and raven both "- but we already fought once today; don't you think we need some time to get our energy back?"  
"Ye saw whit happened oot thaur. Well, ye didnae, but we certainly did. Wood's fightin' is only gonnae gie better. An' his crew, he hud three befair, Kroko said? It jist keeps dooblin' an' dooblin'! We need tae train noo sae we dornt gie crushed later."  
  
It was moments of sensible thinking like that where Dub was actually glad she was leader. "But  _then_  you'll teach me some German?"  
"Probably. But dornt keep pesterin' me abit it while we're workin' ur it'll be probably nae," she warned.  
"What makes you think I'm gonna-"  
"Ah ken whit yoo're loch, Mr Impatient One Track Min'." And the glee quickly disappeared.  
  
He bit back a retort as he got up and joined the others. This was going to be a long afternoon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we go on, I'd like to ask the people who are still here some questions, things for you to think about when reading the rest of Dub's story arc, such as it is. "Is Dub being selfish in his actions? If so, is he more so than the others around him? Can you tell whether or not he's becoming less selfish over time?"  
> There is no right or wrong answer; I'm just interested to see how people interpret him, because it might affect a future chapter or two that I haven't written yet. I believe that characters are made up of contradictions, fluctuations between greed and altruism; so while Wood is the only genuinely purely self-driven character I've written for the fandom, I'm trying to make it so that none of them are invulnerable to being selfish every once in a while, not even Lilo or Kroko. And I'd like to know if that's more noticeable for Dub than the others, particularly in light of his actions in this chapter and those in later ones. I'd mostly like to know that so I can figure out if this is a good or bad thing. ^^;


	8. Aquila non Capit Muscas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter theme** :  comfort  
>  **Soundtrack** : [The Golden Evening - Desiderium](http://desiderium.bandcamp.com/track/the-golden-evening)  
>  _Originally published on August 23rd 2012_

To fly was easy once he knew what he was doing, once he broke it down into simple steps.  
Spread his wings out wide, really wide, to catch the air.  
Bend his knees, ground his feet, adjust his tail.  
Focus ahead of him, through to the end of the road in this case.  
Close his eyes.  
Jump. Flap. Straighten out. Open.  
 _Drunter, drüber, du fliegst..._  
  
Just a few steps in front of their new house, Kroko fluttered in place as high as he could go and watched the world.  
  
There was a lot of world to see from here. He could look to his left and see two whole rows of more houses, roofs and bricks and green or red curtains, some with etchings of flowers on them. He could look straight ahead and find the road they'd ran down to get to Sly that first time, most of the Christmas decorations gone. He could turn around and go to check the path they'd walked (or flown) yesterday for any problems... come to think of it, he should be doing that right now. Danger could come from near and far, and he had to cover both.  
That was what lookouts were best at.  
  
He moved his head down a touch and changed the angle of his arm-wings to push himself to that left. The houses passed in a blur, because he wasn't looking at them as good as he could be. They weren't a threat or a safe spot, just background blocks. Mostly brown swept past him.  
The end of the road branched into two more, one straight ahead again and one taking a right turn. Now he could really do well as an eagle. He stopped himself from rushing down one or the other, hovering again, and stared down the straight path.  
Everything became clearer, more detailed. No movement escaped him; no grain of dust floated that he couldn't pick up on. He could see every reflection of light rays and every shift of the clouds overhead. It wasn't a very sunny day today, so there were a lot of them, making it grey and windy.  
Wind was good news for him, but clouds weren't. Clouds meant rain, and he hoped it wouldn't - no, he  **needed**  it not to rain. His whole body nearly seized up at the thought of it.  _[No, no rain no water, no no!]_  
  
His ability to see everything close from so far away both helped him and made him less secure. If he could, he'd be sitting behind the largest window in the living room, with his soft blanket next to him in case he panicked, rather than out here at risk of getting wet ( _ew ew ew_ ) or hurt. But people had been in the house, therefore people had touched the window and put their hands all over it, so all the sticky prints and outlines of swatted flies and dirty spider webs made it hard to see and made him flustered.  
(To be fair, Sly had taken care of the spider webs without being asked, but had gotten mad about them being stuck to his tail for the rest of the evening. At least he assumed; sometimes it was hard to tell what Sly was saying.)  
  
He shifted his focus of his right eye to the path it faced, keeping his left on the other one. No threats there either, just a few children playing with their presents outside and inside. A girl wearing a pretty pink scarf was stroking a puppy in her front garden, a yorkie with a patch of black on his nose; even with clever eyes like his, Kroko couldn't tell if it was stuffed or real until he saw tiny stitches under his fur.  
  
Right now everyone but him was back in the house. Yesterday afternoon, after Dr Wood had hurt them in the big battle near the toy shop, Dolly had gone over what she'd done with Lilo and Sly before because they hadn't had the chance to make the black hole, while Dub practiced his hiding and Kroko looked for him until the turtle got too tired. It was like a short game of hide and seek, and he got to explore most of the place. He even got to go upstairs after years of being told he wasn't allowed to! (Though he stayed clear of any bathrooms.)  
This morning, she'd left the rest of them alone and talked with Dub for an hour or more, and by the end of it she was growing grass again and the turtle could say more things like [I'm sorry] and [I forgive you], apparently for when Kroko was feeling and saying sorry too.  
And now it was afternoon again, and since he didn't really have anything to work on, he'd been told to go on lookout duty in case anyone showed up who shouldn't.  
  
Being lookout was best for him. He didn't like it when anyone fought all the time, because it involved hurting and yelling. It was safer and less painful up in the air.  
Flying didn't hurt anybody. So, by that logic, Kroko didn't hurt anybody.  
And if he didn't hurt anybody, he didn't have to go back in the box. And he didn't have to see any more eyes...  
  
His arms were kind of twinging now, but if he stopped flapping, he'd fall down. He'd had to flap to fly before that light came out of the therapy room as well as after. So he shook himself back to alertness and kept flying, darting from side to side to avoid getting too achy in the spine.  
He'd just re-centered his eyes and decided to go down the straight road, if only to see if the two looped around to meet each other, when he picked up on a familiar-looking shadow growing at the end of the road with the yorkie. He promptly landed on all fours on the ground, pressing his stomach against it, and scuttled backwards.  
  
Dr Wood emerged, attached to the shadow, looking up and down the street, making him shrink back further, feet trembling. The raven peered into each of the windows in turn, shaking his head at what he saw every time. The dog barked at the new arrival, but his owner didn't pay any attention.  
The ferret hobbled out behind him, and the bear, and in horror it came to Kroko that they were looking for the house where Dolly and the rest were still at, and if there was anyone else with him he didn't pick up on them because by this time he was running then flying away as fast as he could go without breaking something.  
  
"[Dolly!! Dolly - was looking for - but Dr Wood - with others - looking for here - help!!]"  
  
As quickly as he'd zoomed into the living room to give what he hoped was a warning, he fled out again, and to his relief everyone else came close behind (though Lilo took a little longer than the rest). "[This way!]" he cried, backtracking again down the road, flap flap flap, top speed, Sly coming out ahead as usual but that was good.  
  
"[You see, Lilo, Sly?]" he heard Dolly call out roughly halfway up. "[ **This**  is an ambush! You boys remember what I taught you?]"  
"[Maybe, I think. We have to wait for it--]" Sly narrowly dodged an incoming lamppost - "[--wait for them to come to us before hiding and hitting, right?]"  
"[Sly, that's not quite what I said.]"  
"[Why not? That's what you taught us at the road, that I have to wait for the cushions to come to us, then help Lilo turn blocks on.]"  
"[How do you get-? Sod it, close enough,]" she sighed.  
  
They ended up meeting the raven and his army at the branching point not long after that. This time, there was no talking from any of them, not even a clever comment from Dolly; Wood just muttered something that sounded like "[persistently annoying]" and then everybody was hitting each other at once.  
  
Fighting was  _not_  best for Kroko, so he flew up really high this time, the full seven feet. He'd tried to reach that before, but the owl had smacked him down. He had to avoid the owl and the big rabbit and the even bigger bear and everyone who could hurt...  
He flew from one end of the war zone to the other and back again, checking to see if they were doing any better this time. So far so good: Dolly was holding her own well, even if she was just wavy right now instead of properly on fire, and everyone else looked okay too. Nobody was cornered or stuck.  
They had to watch out for Sly especially. He sped around and around, blasting his way through each of the enemy and making them fall down. He put the friction that resulted into Lilo's blocks, and when everyone was pulled together he flailed and smacked them with his tail (Kroko had to curl up to stop him from hurting his nose again). It caused them to yelp in pain, and Dolly had to extract herself from the pile of enemies after the pulling stopped so that she could yell at him. "[Sly, I keep telling you, don't hit them too hard! You don't want to break them!]" But the snake never really listened unless it involved something he agreed with, they all kind of knew that, so he kept doing as he would.  
It was a skirmish down below, lots and lots of top-down bodies moving and getting hurt. Kroko was safe up here, flying, watching for humans and more trouble, making sure Wood couldn't sneak away. Definitely.  
  
Then Wood looked at him. He paused mid-dodge to tilt his head up and see Kroko there above him. He'd been caught. It was time to turn around and go to the other side, he had to get out of the way, he turned tail and--  
  
\--and the road sprung a leak. There was a drain somewhere between the pavement and the path and it gurgled up and water ( _[ **no** ]_) came gushing out of it, pouring up, flooding the floor, spreading along each crack and crevice, one inch of liquid, horribly clear and dark blue, two, four, soaking the feet and length of the fighters as they splashed around in the stuff. Water water everywhere, up from a hole like that, but was it real? Wood was good at making things look real but they weren't, if it wasn't real he could calm down and stop the shivering in his body, so he tried to squeak something out, "[guys, w-water under you,]" but they didn't hear him and they didn't see it, they weren't reacting to the frothing gurgling mess that shot up at him in spurts and fountains and droplets, he dodged quickly but they brushed past him, and the water felt cold.  
It felt cold. Wood couldn't make things feel cold, just make the group see and hear them. It was  **real**. The water was real it was real and everybody was floating in it now but they didn't look at it even as they got all wet wet  _[wet no, not allowed to get wet, it's real it's real don't want to get wet **danger danger**!!]_  
He tried to keep flapping but his arms were sore anyway and with the water the actually water down below he was shaking too much, couldn't balance couldn't float. The gulf was completely covering some of the smaller toys now, little bubbles drifted up to the surface and popped, they were breathing under there, but then some of it stopped and no ripples came out and it was getting deeper and deeper, a shape that looked like Dolly or maybe Lilo convulsed in the unclear murky ocean with twitching arms reaching head to the surface but never breaking through, drowning, oh god they were all drowning and  **he**  would drown and get wet and everything would paralyze if he couldn't keep flying! But he couldn't he couldn't, his wings locked up, they got stuck, folded in, he couldn't fly like this, and if he couldn't fly he couldn't keep in the air and suddenly he was falling, falling into the rising flood, he fell for what felt like a painfully long time that stretched ahead of him in a darkened tunnel like a bendy tap with a plug full of death and eyes at the bottom, he closed his eyes to escape but he still felt the falling so he couldn't and he couldn't drown he couldn't fly or breathe or die he didn't want to die no water not safe not safe  **[HELP]**  
  
something long and thin and sparking caught him around the waist, and he felt ground solid ground under his wobbly feet, his quivering tail.  
  
"[Kroko? Are you okay?]" asked the voice of Sly, there and alive and undrowned. "[You stopped flying and fell down fast fast screaming.]"  
He opened his eyes. The road was clear of the water. Everyone kept fighting, rolling around and avoiding scratches. No one was dripping, there were no puddles, not even from Sly. That was good, no one was wet...  
  
...but he had seen it. Where had it gone in such a hurry?  
  
"[I-I'm... no. But thanks, Sly,]" he said, wavering. "[Was there wa-  _ew-_  water on the road a minute ago, did you see?]"  
The snake shook his head. "[No, just the mice. If there was water, I'd smell it, trust me. Can I let you go now? I can't use you to hit things.]"  
He nodded, and the other took off like a bullet, leaving him alone to let it sink in.  
  
There was no water. There was, but there wasn't. The water had never been there in the first place.  
...And yet it had felt so real. It had splashed him and bubbled and felt cold.  
Could Wood do all that? Of course he could, who else could have?  
  
But that meant... Wood knew his weakness. He knew all of their weaknesses. He had to, he'd been their doctor before.  
He could make the weaknesses real and use them to make them scared.  
  
Kroko wasn't safe anymore.  
 _[I'm not safe._  
[ **No one is.** ]  
  
\---------------  
  
If anyone won the battle in the flooded not flooded road, he didn't know. After that thought, he stopped paying much attention to what anyone was saying or doing. He just curled up around himself and shook like a leaf, wishing feverishly that he had taken his blanket with him after all to make him feel nice and secure and protected, until Sly's voice came up close to his ear and told him "[Dolly says it's time to go back now]".  
  
Everyone had gotten hurt in some way, it seemed. Lilo walked with a slight limp, and Sly got increasingly distracted as they went. But none of them were wet.  
Kroko hung back, too jittery to return to the air. He walked in silence as they all made their way back to the house.  
  
Once she'd made sure Wood and the rest were out of earshot, Dolly told everyone how well they'd done. "[Okay, that was a little unexpected, but we were ready for him that time. Good job, everyone! Especially you, Kroko.]"  
He wanted to shake his head extra hard. He hadn't done a good job, not at all. He'd almost drowned in something that wasn't real, that wasn't a good job. But she'd moved on to talking about taking a well earned rest when they got back, so he didn't.  
  
And then they  _were_  back and inside the house and his blanket was still on the windowsill where he had left it. He fell into it and held it extra close, smelt the scents of the forest and road it had picked up on its journey from home to here. Pine tree branches, and unkempt grass, and its warm embrace, and he stopped shivering.  
But he didn't smile inside like he usually did when he hugged it. And after he broke away from its scent, he dragged it back outside again to sit around it on the other side.  
  
"[Kroko?]" Dolly came out to ask him after noticing he'd moved. "[Don't you want to come inside? You're going to get cold out here.]"  
"[I can't come indoors. I want to make sure Dr Wood doesn't come back to hurt us all some more. Need to be on my own anyway, please.]"  
She nodded, but he still saw gentle concern in her eyes, despite the grass back again. "[Good thinking. ...Are you sure you're going to be--]"  
"[No, I'm not sure, but I need to be out here on my own please,]" he repeated anxiously. Saying please usually worked to get him alone when he was upset.  
"[Okay. But if you're not back inside in half an hour, I'll come and get you. Don't think I won't check.]" Then she bounded back through the door.  
  
He hadn't lied very much. He did need to protect the house from Wood and the Claw Association.  
But he mostly didn't deserve to be inside. Inside was for heroes, and he wasn't.  
  
It was getting cold, as she'd said, but it was also getting dark. Beyond the roofs and the horizon ahead, the sun was starting to sink, and what sky could be seen was getting painted over, streaks smudging together. Mostly a deep ochre, some reds and yellows, even hints of blue and Lilo-ish purple, all in shades he didn't even know existed. The bright light wasn't directly visible, falling behind a building, but the colours were still there to spread patterns across and behind so many silver and grey clouds, darker in this night.  
It would have been a beautiful sky, so calming and soothing, were it not for those clouds. The chilling reminder that in this world of superpowers and running to and from problems, rain could still ruin everything.  
More than he had before, he flinched from them. They followed, black and bitter.  
  
Kroko was supposed to be a crocodile and an eagle at the same time. Dr Kindermann had called him a crocodile from the very first time he'd looked into the cereal box, and so had Nurse Nadel, and Wood, and Dr Spieler. But he hadn't really believed it. Crocodiles liked water, right? And he was scared of it.  
The motivational tape had called him an eagle, and it had comforted him (mostly) with calm words, and flying had made him feel better than he'd felt since he'd been put into the blue and yellow room. Being that, he could believe.  
So he was two things.  
Except he wasn't. He was out of the room and out of the box, and now that he really could fly as an eagle he couldn't do it very well. He had to flap all the time to keep up, and when water was near, whether it was real or not, he couldn't. He froze up and had to walk and crash a lot until it went away, and sometimes even then...  
  
Kroko wasn't an eagle because he wasn't brave. He wasn't a crocodile because crocodiles weren't so scared of water.  
 _[What **am**  I, then?]_  
A mole, like a secret agent? A spider, horrid and worth squashing?  
A blob? A curled up blob made up of spare pieces of cloth nobody else wanted to use, not worth anything anywhere he was?  
 _[A failure?]_  
  
Kroko the failure. The failure as a lookout, as he hadn't seen this coming. The failure as a fighter because he couldn't escape the fake real flood and he didn't want to hurt anybody.  
The failure as a hero, the walking talking disappointment.  
The walking fear of everything that could cause pain and fright and confusion. Water, ravens, loss... everything.  
  
The sun was definitely down now, and the sky was duller. A rumble of thunder crossed the blue black purple orange, and it wasn't Dolly inside, this was a lot bigger.  
As if to rub it in, the blinding orb peeked out between a gap in the buildings, tormenting him by planning to go away and leave him in the night and rain...  
  
The sun blinked, once. Twice. It stretched into an oval, pointy at each end with a thick black outline. It split into two, three, black dots in red pupils.  
  
 _[No - no no no **nononononono!!** ]_  
The eyes had come back again. The eyes that always watched him at his worst. The cameras for the people out there who liked seeing him struggle in vain to stop his own raindrop tears. The horrible floating eyes, the colour of blood, human shape but inhuman, with a horrible cackling laugh attached to them that only he could hear, that splintered him inside.  
He retreated under his blanket, shaking again, but they still remained, they peeked underneath. He came back out because that wasn't helping and tried to look through them, but they would not go see-through, blocking his vision, just staring back into his own. He looked everywhere, up at the sky, back at the house, and they followed, never looking away, never kind, always fierce.  
One of them blinked again, then the rest, and he saw himself reflected in each crimson circle. Something that looked like a crocodile, but couldn't have been, all curled up and thin and pathetic. Trapping him in himself, in his own sense of failure, his own un-eagleness, un-braveness, un-worthiness...  
  
He ran. He couldn't take it or be here or look at himself or look at them. He closed his eyes once again and ran as fast as he could go, away from the blanket and away from the stares. There was nothing else to do.  
He ran through the gust of wind that was blowing the clouds across the sky. He ran through the cold. He ran past the doors and houses, better security but none would be willing to let him in, to let him escape this world his fear had created, that the crying eyes had formed for him. He ran past the gardens, on the pavement, padding of the feet, clicking of the claws, he ran through the falling darkness and through the music and through--  
  
 _[Music?]_  
He skidded to a halt, with his eyelids still firmly shut and his ears open. He heard music. Music was good, music showed a sign of life.  
It came again, a very specific note, followed by more. On a particular instrument. A wind one.  
A flute.  
  
It was a full-fledged melody now, low notes and high, and some held longer than others. Something about it struck a chord in an unreached part of him, something that recognized the tune. He had heard it before - he didn't know where, as everything before being in the box was a mess, but he had.  
He had to have: it calmed the panic in his head automatically. The jagged lines shifted and evened out, only bouncing whenever a really high note came. The song was repeating itself, over and over.  
He had to get to the music, if it eased him like this.  
  
Kroko opened his eyes, let out the breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding, and stared around to search for the sound. His running had taken him to the middle of the road; their house was still over there, and his blanket. But the music came from next to the one he was in front of, from an open upstairs window.  
He adjusted himself and lifted off, steady enough to fly again, very slowly. Every time he blinked, a faded imprint of one of the eyes hovered somewhere, but the tune helped him keep flapping and push through.  
When he reached as high as he could go, he managed to cling to a drainpipe at the corner of the house and climb the rest of the way up, even if he slipped about two thirds of the way. Yes, it was getting much closer now, much louder... definitely from this room.  
  
Then he was on the windowsill, and the window was open, and he snuck in behind the drawn curtain. Light shone in through the thin white wisp of fabric, a shaded bulb on the ceiling. The music came right from the middle, still the same soothing arrangement.  
Who was playing it? Why were they playing it? Did it calm them down too? Were they afraid?  
Kroko didn't really know, but as long as the tune was there that didn't matter much. It could have been the motivational tape player again for all he cared. He neither moved nor spoke, just letting each and every note, quaver, minim, rest, carry his mind away to a safe place, a better place than in the fight, a deserted nostalgia away from it all...  
  
KABOOM. The thunder came again, louder this time, and startled him out of his drifting enough to send him falling out from the curtain and onto another carpeted floor with a noise of pain.  
  
"[What the? Where'd you come from?]" someone asked, obviously not the one making the music as that was still going in the background.  
"[Behind the window,]" he said honestly to the voice, pulling himself up again.  
"[Yeah, I know that, but -]" A pause. "[Wait, come to think of it, how long have you been there?]"  
  
All of the questions were coming from a bundle of stripes. They stretched across, and some were blue and some were a mint green, faded in the bedroom light (he knew this was a bedroom because of the bed he'd nearly landed on), and they formed the shape of a perplexed monkey. He sat on top of the crossed legs of a boy, the one playing the flute with really thin fingers.  
"[About five minutes, I think,]" Kroko replied, not hiding his shame. "[I came because I heard the music. I'm sorry, I can go if you--]"  
"[Nah, you can stay,]" said the monkey. "[I can't even remember the last time a toy came over. You just came straight out of nowhere, that's all.]"  
"[No, I  _said_  I came from behind the--]" More thunder interrupted him, and the sound of rain splattering against the-- rain, water, "EEK!" He ducked out of the way of a few incoming drops  _[no more water no more disappoi-_ ouch _]_ , clumsily smacking into the bed.  
  
The boy stopped playing the flute and got up to close the window, giving the monkey room to come over and help Kroko up from the floor again. "[I think I see why you were on the inside now.]"  
"[Sorry,]" he mumbled.  
"[I said it's fine. I could use the company. And you can stay and listen some more if you want; it isn't like Felix is gonna stop any time soon.]"  
"[What, he just plays the song over and over? Every day?]"  
The other toy, clearly knitted up close, shrugged. "[Well, not every day, just when he thinks he can. Routine is kind of a thing he likes. His mother says he has something called an autistic spec- spec-something?]"  
Kroko brightened up at that. "[Oh, Lilo will like him then.]"  
  
"[Who's Lilo? There's more of you?]" The song started again, the sound of rain had gotten quieter.  
"[Five. Six if you count-]"  
"[Damn, six new toys and I haven't even heard a thing about them? I shouldn't be surprised, but still.]"  
"[We've only been here about two days. We moved in from the cli-- from another place,]" he quickly corrected. The other didn't need to know that particular part of him, they'd only just met.  
  
"[All the more stuff to talk about then. God knows we're gonna be here a while. My name's Spinne, by the way.]"  
"[I'm Kroko.]"  
Spinne laughed at that. "[Should've guessed. I think I like you already, Kroko. Have a seat and let's talk.]"  
  
****  
  
Lots of minutes passed, at least according to his own idea of how time worked. There wasn't a clock in here like there was back at home. Spinne talked about himself and Felix and how they didn't get out of the house except for school and trips to the zoo; Kroko told him as much about the asylum and his fellow toys as he dared, which was to say, not very much at all. He would keep getting distracted by the melody, finding something new in it every so often because flute players could make mistakes, and that helped him not say too much.  
But Kroko didn't want to stay any longer than he had to, no matter how much he liked that song. So when he heard the boy and the rain stop completely, he got up and headed back to the shut window.  
  
"[Are you going?]"  
"[I have to,]" he said apologetically. "[Dolly expected me back a while ago, and I can't keep her waiting.]"  
Spinne followed him as he climbed back onto the windowsill. "[Any idea if you'll come back?]" he asked.  
"[I will. I want to hear the song again. It's a really good song. But I don't know when, sorry.]"  
  
"[...Wait. Idea. Hold on.]" The monkey loped away to a tiny box near the large and imposing door; after fiddling around for a bit, he came back with - "[If you like it so much, you can borrow this. You've probably heard it so many times now you can play it in your sleep.]"  
  
Kroko looked, first confused, then wide-eyed, at the item in Spinne's paw. An actual flute, smaller than the real thing, just his size...  
Could he take it? Should he?  
  
"[Isn't that yours?]"  
"[Yeah, that's why I said "borrow", not "keep",]" he said, slowly and clearly. "[When you get the chance to come round again, I'll be wanting it back, but hopefully by then you'll have one for yourself anyway.]"  
"[Are you sure?]"  
"[Go on, just take it.]"  
  
With an unsteady claw, he reached out and gingerly took the flute. It was well carved, with holes in the right places, and it was really smooth on the inside. An experimental play - ooh, that was a bad note, everyone clenched. Another go, more pleasant now, if trembly. He could get used to this.  
He glanced back up at the monkey, who looked as pleased as he felt. "[Thanks, Spinne! I swear I'll give it back, okay?]"  
"[I'll hunt you down if you don't.]" Then, in response to the flinch, "[I, I'm kidding. I won't actually... you'd better go, Kroko. Nice to meet you.]"  
  
"[Same!]" he chirped, and managed to get open the window just enough for him to slip out. He thought he heard the other ask "[Wait, how are you getting- wait, don't jump!]", but by then he already had, flapping away with the flute in one hand.  
  
It was dark up above, but the lampposts were on again, and he could see reflections of the puddles on the ground. The memory of what had happened earlier came raging back, so he landed on the pavement and walked back the way he came, just to be on the safe side.  
The fright and the panic were just a fresh and stingy memory now. The business with the music had helped push it out of his mind, if only for a few minutes, hours, however long it had been. He spun the flute around between his claws, smiling at the whistling sound it made. If he had this with him, as well as the comfort blanket, he wouldn't get so scared next time. He would remember what it was like to not be afraid for a while.  
That was good.  
He couldn't carry it around with him at the same time as the pillow, though, as he'd have his wings full. Where could he put it then? He looked all over him for a place to store it, settling on the pocket in his chest. What else would that be there for but to store flutes? It fit loosely inside with a rustle.  
  
He was at the front door of their house by this time; the blanket had gone from the windowsill. Through the glass he could see Dolly pacing around really fast, with sparks of static jumping off of her at every turn.  
Had the eyes chasing him away made her worried too? They must have done. Steiff, he was a disappointment even when he was trying not to be...  
  
He shook his head and gave his gift a self-comforting squeeze. He had to go back inside sooner rather than later, or she'd get even more upset. So he pushed the door open very softly, snuck inside and waited for the inevitable.  
  
"[ **KROKO WHERE THE _HELL_  HAVE YOU BEEN?!**]"  
Well, that didn't take long. She was right up in his face, shaking lots in body and speech. "[You were out there for half an hour and I came to get you and only your blanket was there! We looked and looked for you but you weren't anywhere on the street, where have you  **been**? I thought you'd gotten caught in the rain!!]"  
"[Dolly, I'm--]"  
"[Sly said you got really scared earlier, though not until you'd gone since he's an idiot, and I thought you'd run off, and the last thing we need is anyone running off, especially you! Do you know how worried sick I've been?! I mean, Dub going--]"  
"[Dolly, I'm okay--]"  
"[--missing is one thing, he doesn't have to do as much, but--]"  
  
"[Dolly, I'm okay, really,]" Kroko repeated in a tone he hoped sounded reassuring rather than pushy. "[I just went somewhere to get out of the rain and stayed there until it stopped. I didn't go far, and I'm okay and I'm back now. Sorry.]"  
"[Well  _I didn't bloody know that, did I?!_ ]" she almost screamed.  
He tried to resist the urge to press himself against the door in his own fear. "[I-I know, and I'm really sorry. I'm okay now, though. Do you believe me?]"  
  
It took a few wobbly breaths, but she looked like she did. The static was there still, but less. "[Yeah, you don't, don't look hurt or anything... But don't you  **dare**  scare me like that again!]"  
"[I won't. I'm really really sorry.]"  
"[O-okay. I forgive you. Sorry for snapping. I just worry about--]"  
"[It's okay.]"  
  
Kroko managed to find his blanket just before going to bed, but it was still a bit damp, so he thought he'd go without tonight. He had the flute anyway, and he'd managed to find another toy to talk to sometimes. All in all, a better end to what had been a pretty horrific day. Not a good end, not quite, but a better end.  
  
It wasn't until he was lying on his back looking at the jet black sky that something occurred to him. He really must have scared Dolly a lot. He'd seen her wool on end, and he'd seen her make thunder on a smaller scale...  
But unless he was seeing unreal things there too, he'd never seen her with any twinkling circles of light before.


	9. Compos Mentis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter theme** :  power  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Afterlife - Switchfoot](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkBh9xwDAtc) ([remix optional](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWj5-ZGv970))  
>  _Originally published on August 27th 2012_

To succeed in a complicated field took intelligence. To succeed so blatantly in that field as to be heralded as a prodigy took more of it, genius levels of it.  
To succeed once more in a similar and yet vastly different branch? That took an equal measure of that brainpower, bravado and cooperation.  
  
Dr Wood was a genius. He had known this from the start of his medical climb to the very end of his stint as actual doctor, back when his workplace went up in smoke. But that had been a while ago... over five days. Multiple sunrises and sunsets, at any rate. A number of things had changed since then, and he was applying his knowledge to circumstances he never thought he'd have to face.  
More virtues made themselves known every time he got out of those changes. He was a good fighter. He was tactical, a damn sight more so than the "let's slam into everything and hope it makes contact" approach of the other team. He was increasingly persuasive. And he had a spacious property to back him and his side up - almost as large as the asylum he had left behind.  
The Claw Association itself was growing from strength to strength. Not only in terms of numbers, but in their unity, their prowess.  
Their loyalty.  
  
"[We found a few more potentials for you to look over, Wood.]"  
All growing more by the day.  
  
"[Thank you, Han,]" Wood called over to the ferret that had just poked his head through the door to his recruiting room. "[How many and where exactly?]"  
"[Four. They say they're sisters, so it should be easy to get them all at once. Found them in front of Oxfam. We barely had to say anything to convince them! They couldn't get out of that box fast enough.]"  
An inner smile rose. "[I'm glad to see my placing my trust in you is still as warranted as ever. Bring them in, and keep Stimp and Speckle on standby for collection.]"  
"[Will do.]"  
  
"[...Is there anything else?]" the doctor asked when Han showed no signs of leaving.  
"[Um. I'm afraid it's the,  _the back thing_  again. It's playing up.]"  
"[Han, we discussed this. It's merely phantom pain.]"  
"[I know that,]" he winced, "[but that doesn't mean it knows that. You know?]"  
"[All right, I'll reinforce you when I'm done in here. In the meantime, keep your mind on other things. That should stave it off.]"  
"[Thanks, Wood,]" said Han gratefully before disappearing again, muttering "[it's all in the mind it's all in the mind]" as he left.  
  
Through the gap in the door, gradually, came four new toys. More like dolls, really... no - they were dogs: mostly made of plastic and fake fur; just over half his size; coloured across the spectrum of brown under their varied states of attire. Not cuddly toys per se, but if they had effectively volunteered themselves, he would find use for them yet. The Association was considerably lacking in dogs, and any ammunition in that department would help keep Dolly from headbutting him so much, even if only by threat rather than presence.  
Four, too. Just the right number.  
  
Wood crossed the room to the line of dogs (well, a trio standing and one having collapsed into sitting), whom the door had just closed behind. It was time to flex his powers once more.  
"[I am presuming from the confusion on your faces that you haven't heard of me? If you have, say so now.]"  
They hadn't.  
"[I thought so. Though I honestly expected that more of you might...]"  _[No, Wood, bite your tongue.]_  "[Anyway. For now, you can call me Dr Wood. I have other titles, but those will come in time. And you are?]"  
From left to right, the dogs were called Kiesel, Kadett, Kosmos and Knospe.  
"[What elegant names! Apt, considering the clothes you have on are equally fashionable, if you'll pardon the play on words.]"  
The one in the soldier's uniform - Kadett - grinned widely at that, but otherwise they said nothing. All was going well, so far.  
  
Now for the harder part. "[Did Han or anyone else tell you why you were coming here?]" he asked.  
A cross-Sassnitz experiment of some sort, according to Kosmos, the one in the blue business suit.  
"[Essentially, yes. I stated before I am a doctor, but my actual qualification is a PhD, specifically in the field of psychology and mental health, in particular for cuddly toys such as technically yourselves.]" He loved this section because of its truths, but he held back nonetheless. There was still a chance that his next question would not apply and their times would be wasted. "[My research over the years has told me that 33% of all plush toys, in Germany at any rate, has a mental or physical disorder, either having come about due to errors in manufacturing or a traumatic experience in the after-sale phase.]"  
Kiesel, in her white and red dress and veil, admitted here that he had lost them.  
 _[Simplify,]_  Wood scolded himself.  _[You've had this problem so many times, how can you forget to simplify?!]_  
"[In basic terms, one third of toys in this country have a problem. Do any of you believe you have one? A problem?]" he clarified. "[A fear of something one usually wouldn't be afraid of? Hallucinations? Excess dizziness upon moving too fast?]"  
  
The smallest of the dogs, the one who had fallen down upon arrival, claimed quietly to have the last. Knospe tried to stand up to prove it, but it was indeed too fast, and she fell back onto the tutu of her ballet outfit with a thud.  
 _[Brilliant!]_  
  
"[Yes, that would normally owe to insufficient or poor-quality stuffing. But in your case, I suppose it would be more like unequal distribution of plastic in the upper region.]"  
The pup on the ground again, sounding a bit nauseous, asked why he was smiling. Did he find this good?  
"[Well, I pity you your disability, but this means that you are more than eligible for my experiment,]" he explained. "[As far as doctors go, I am different to my peers not just in genus, but in ability. I can heal you of your problem, and this will prove it.]"  
Kosmos took umbrage with that. Other people supposedly skilled in toy repair had said the same and been no help.  
  
"[Could those people painlessly destroy the root cause with nothing but claws and a thought?]"  
  
This last was the fragment that got their attention. It always was, no matter the audience. Accusations of impossibility from some, inquiries how from others. This time around, the dogs chose to ask, wide-eyed, if that was true, though not in so many words.  
"[Yes, really.]"  
How did he know? Had he tried before? Interesting,  _that_  wasn't asked often.  
"[I have attempted it, yes. The toys that brought you to me, they were the first to be tested. But as time passes, I get gradually more capable, so you will be receiving the best of my ability if you all comply.]"  
The middle two wondered, one with fascination: why all? Only one had an issue.  
"[But mental problems can occur at any time, with any provocation. I can protect you from that.]"  
  
The other two asked why he was doing this at all.  
"[Why would one not heal the beings that need it if they have the capacity to do so? That's what I intend to do. To eliminate all disorders, mental or physical, from affected cuddly toys, and to stop them occurring in the currently able. To quench the heartbreak of phobias, of illusions and delusions, of torn limbs, of uneven brains.]" He could feel his heart and his ego swell with his own words as they rang deep within. "[To enlighten the world and all the intermingling bodies and minds that dwell in it.  
"[In short,]" and he closed his eyes, opened them, and from behind his back he pulled two giant claws, like those in his suitcase, and held them in his wings, "[to create something like this.]"  
  
Four minds in front of him now, receptive and easy to pervade. Not too big, like in the forest, but not too small. A single mind had its advantages, but here, four suited his purposes just fine.  
He laid down the basics in front of them all. What was once a brownish room became white, pure. He still rose above them, or rather his projected form, his real one lost in shadows. The same tune in the air.  
Buildings. Those had been a later addition, since this hypothetical ideal world had looked bare without them. Buildings rising up tall, far above them, bungalows that might as well have been skyscrapers. Clean houses full of cuddly toys, laughing, playing family, no quarreling, no squabbling... no abnormality in design or action. Unaffected.  
Little details, modified to fit the target audience, to make it their ideal, not his. All part of the recruitment. They liked their clothes, were proud of them, so the toys all cleaned up nicely, some with bows or hats, some with full ensembles. The ground was completely flat to reinforce that no falling down or dizziness would occur. Talk of love under the music, inquisitiveness, a sense of belonging consistent with most of his healees, if not all...  
Personalized dreams.  
  
The new landscape faded into the old when Kosmos cut in with an assurance. Yes, they wanted that perfect world. All nodding in assent. Permission.  
"[I thought you would. Hold still,]" said Wood, reaching his claws towards them. "[Close your eyes.]"  
  
The healing, the calming rippling waves across and down the bodies in front of him, began. He looked to the ceiling light, moved his claws down once, twice, three times.  
Then it was over. A simple process, indeed.  
  
"[...is it done? Can I look now?]" Knospe asked timidly.  
"[Yes you may.]"  
The pups opened their eyes in canon, scattered. The affected one tried to walk, slow then fast from one end to the other, and Wood 'thought' he saw the horizon move with her. "[I - girls, it worked! I didn't get dizzy! It worked it worked!!]" she cried, spinning back around to face Wood, having slipped both claws into his left wing by this time. "[It worked and you made it work! Thank you thank you! How - can we even pay you back for this?]"  
  
Ah... he liked it a lot when they walked right into his last course of action like that.  
"[As a matter of fact, you can. What items are most precious to any of you?]"  
"[Um, I guess our clothes,]" Kiesel replied for her. "[They're the only things we have.]"  
"[Then that is how you can pay me back.]"  
  
Knospe immediately made to remove her ballet dress, but Kosmos and Kiesel stayed put, and Kadett barked out a string of incoherent protestations.  
"[Come come, this is a simple price to pay,]" he coaxed. "[I have done my bit, so you can do yours. Clothes for protection against mental problems? I would consider that a fair exchange. Would you?]"  
Even with this logic thrown at them, it took a minute and a lot of wheedling from Knospe for the uniform-clad dog to get the message, but eventually, all four outfits were in a pile.  
  
"[Well done. Very efficient.]" Wood moved to the door again, opened it slightly and looked down to find two shocks of lime green and purple standing there. "[Stimp, Speckle, collect these clothes and put them in the usual place.  _Who else is out there right now...?_ ]" Up again as he felt the whisk of movement; checking his left, then his right, where he found the rainbow-patterned sheep wandering the halls. "[Oh, Regen? Please show these four new recruits to their room. The one to the right of Baby's. I am sure they will find it most comfortable.]"  
"[Sure, Leader Wood.]"  
A flood of fur and cotton came in, and the sisters were whisked away before they could protest. Stimp and Speckle were close behind, the small green mouse carrying the clothes and the fluffy worm hot on his heels as always.  
  
The door closed, and Wood was alone with his thoughts, claws, quiet glee.  
Four in one sitting. That brought the number of his troupe, his followers, up to twenty-one. Seven conversions; four outside, three inside, after the mouse and worm came to them rather than vice versa. Four more beings to write up in the census that his notebook had become.  
Twenty one Association members.  
Five days.  
  
That was the essence, the definition, of success.  
  
With a blink, the claws dissolved. Incorporating them had been a true stroke of genius on his part. It made the healing that much more convincing. They had originally been gifted to him at the most recent International Congress of Plush Psychoanalysis, by a human he couldn't put a face to now but then had been deemed important enough to accept them from. At the time they'd been cited as having magical properties. Also at the time, he had laughed.  
And now, even if they were probably burnt to a crisp in his suitcase, they served his purposes well in their afterlife.  
  
Indeed, everything and everyone around him was aiding them. This building, for example. For the time being, just large enough to hold all the toys he intended to recruit (twenty-one in five days, he still couldn't quite believe it). This room, with the soft lighting and the tune and the ghost of a cottage blocking the wind--  
He frowned a little, closed his eyes and cleared his mind, then checked again.  
This room, with the soft lighting and the window with a  **clear**  view of the outside, thank you, and a single made bed to sleep on, was his own. There were many, mostly bedrooms, across at least two floors, if not three - he had enough groups to take up the first floor now, and that would only grow. It was fortunate all but one had a good sense of direction and spacial awareness, or they would have gotten very lost very fast.  
What this place had originally been, no one had told him consistently. Some healees said it was a hospice, some a respite care facility. Wood called it HQ.  
  
Healees. Was it really so wrong, so false, to call them that, even in his own head?  
On one level, the healing was merely what Han had inadvertently called it - something to convince them. A story, a way of ensnaring his recruits in the appropriate net. But was it completely a lie? Knospe had seemed genuinely satisfied. So had Han himself, back in the dumpster; Gesetz; Kakobar; Dose... It was just as much cognitive thought as physical problems, and if they believed they were better as a result of his magic, then it was so.  
If Wood had to subtly tilt a few axes of reality to reinforce it, sometimes, was that such a crime?  
  
He didn't think it was. Not if it brought him one step closer to his true, prioritized goal.  
Having so many toys at his beck and call right now was all very impressive. And he knew for a fact that at least fifteen could hold their own in a battle. Stimp and Speckle could not fight as they were on guard duty for the precious items he took from each member (something which with them he could not do, as their precious items were each other); and those he pulled in today had not had their chance to show off their prowess, but the others had all made it through a single fight or demonstration intact.  
Yet, none of them were on his level. Or even, he had to face it, Lilo or Sly or Kroko's level. None had superpowers as they did. And if he was respected now as a leader, a maker of miracles, a... How much would he be exalted if he  _did_ manage to convert those who fought against him so consistently?  
Bringing the enemy group back to his side was the crucial element, the key to bringing his Association up from greatness into perfection.  
  
Kroko would love the opportunity to be healed, he was sure. Especially after the fight of yesterday afternoon, where Wood had put a different method of winning to the test.  
When it came to recruitment, four minds was the perfect number. His dreams could not spread to more than that, and the more he managed to collect in one sitting, the better. But dealing with Kit and Kat for the first time had given him an epiphany of sorts, when the influence of the sun they wanted to spread themselves out in actually became vaguely warm as he imagined it.  
The fewer minds there were to handle, the more convincing they could become. The more senses could be invoked, from sight and noise to heat to weight, even to pain.  
Imaginary projectiles could actually hurt. Imaginary dirt could smother intrusive fires. Imaginary water could splash flying crocodiles from below...  
  
A sliver of guilt flashed a wing for an instant. But he pushed it out. It was simple fighting strategy. He couldn't damage the toys beyond repair directly, or there would be no point. Besides, that dog on the first full day had been fake, and so, too, had been the flood. In his mind, it couldn't trigger if it wasn't truly real.  
All for the long term goal. All for the good of Wood.  
  
Besides, Kroko hadn't even gotten what he hoped would be the best of it...  
  
He couldn't, yet. He had to keep changing his strategies, to avoid them getting too comfortable. He knew they would keep trying to outsmart him; even as they stuck to the "slam hope contact" philosophy, the direction in which they slammed, the speed, the little intricate details would change as he did. He was not blind to this.  
And there were things about the enemy team that even he, with all his intelligence, could not comprehend. Particularly a single toy.  
  
A single, helpful and harmful, perfect and imperfect, honest and utterly inaccessible toy called Dub.  
  
\---------------  
  
His mind drifted back to yesterday evening, when the last fight had long since ceased and no one was sure who had won that time. Or, to be accurate, who had retreated first. Those who had fought were nursing themselves back to health with some subtle subconscious influence from himself. Some of the older members had gone healee-hunting under Wood's instruction; their travels had led them to Baby, Frankis and Tiresias just in time for the sun to start its decline in the sky.  
He was in the beginnings of his preparatory talk for them when a panicked Kakobar had rushed in espousing warnings about how someone "[snuck up on us and is at the door he's going to attack any minute I know he is]". He and the newest three were put under Han's easing supervision, and when Wood got to the door to confirm the rumours, he did indeed find the turtle standing there, trying to catch his breath.  
  
Wood had been part irritated, part shocked, to say the least. "Dub? What are you doing -- how did you get here?"  
"Just followed... the brown rabbit," the other said as if finding the Association base wasn't a big deal on either end.  
"And he didn't see you? How can you possibly have followed my toys without being spotted?"  
  
"Look, if you're worried about me coming here to snoop around, I'm not. Look - " Dub took a step back here - "I'm not even gonna enter this thing. I'll stay outside the whole time."  
Wood surveyed the 'enemy' from top to bottom. Body language worked wonders, and while it was not his true speciality, he looked sincere enough, if a little worn out and nervous in his tapping toe. "And you won't notify the others of this place and how you found it?" he pressed.  
"Nope. I'll promise if it makes you feel better."  
The doctor didn't make him go quite that far, but at the same time, he didn't remember leaving the proximity of the door frame for the remainder of a rather lengthy conversation. To be fair, he didn't remember Dub trying to barge through either, so he supposed that evened out.  
  
The topics of pseudo-discussion changed and shifted on their own, at frequent intervals. At first, Wood was understandably curious as to what had driven him here.  
"I just had to get out," said Dub. "I wasn't really needed anyway, but  _certain_  toys would flip their lid again if they knew where I wanted to go, so I snuck out. I needed someone to talk to."  
"And you couldn't have just talked with--"  
"God no. Have you ever played Minesweeper?"  
  
Wood, taken aback, blinked. "What does that have to do with anything?"  
"Y-y- Minesweeper, a game where you try to get past -" the other floundered. "Clue's kinda in the name? It was one of Max's favourites before-"  
"I know what Minesweeper is, Dub. I'm not moronic. That just came rather out of left field."  
He looked like he could have hit himself. " _Stupid Dub, you've made him think you're..._  Anyway, trust me, talking with her's like playing Minesweeper on hard mode. Red flags everywhere, you know? There's only so much a guy can take of that."  
"Indeed."  
Thunder rolled across the heavens.  
  
Somewhere along the line, the conversation moved to Dub's confession of the day even before that. "How long, exactly, have you considered me "hot as hell"?" Wood asked, unsure whether to add a teasing tone or not.  
Dub cringed: "Come on, don't rub it in. I wasn't thinking about what I was saying."  
"I won't rub it in if you answer my question."  _[And if you make an innuendo out of that, I will end this right now.]_  
A pause as he moved his hand up to the back of his neck, cast his eyes around, lower eyelids constantly raised. "Dunno, really. A while. I felt it longer than I knew about it, if you get what I mean."  
"No, I'm afraid I don't follow." Part of him did, but who could resist the allure of some much needed extra compliments from the one you know has a fancy for you?  
  
"Well. That day, when you... when the asylum burnt down. I didn't think you were being treated fair even back then. Like, admittedly you made a big-ass mistake, but so did she, if I'm honest. That was when I first felt what I feel for you, I think. Or at least was aware of..."  
He trailed off, deep in thought, for a few seconds.  
"I guess I kinda respected you on some level even before that, though," he amended. "I wanted to impress you. Everyone, really, but also you. You took notes. And when people take notes I have the need to improve and get... Am I saying this right?" he then asked with a hint of worry. "It's a little hard to explain."  
  
"Yes, I understand you," Wood said, hopefully encouragingly. "But I am confused on one point: when did you truly determine that what you felt was attraction rather than merely respect?"  
"When I realized how, heh, well designed you were." Dub grinned widely here. "Though you probably get that a lot, what with that junk in the trunk."  
"Enlighten me, Dub, am I supposed to be flattered or insulted?" (But he knew the answer to that too; on the inside, he was smiling.)  
  
Halfway into the proceedings, it began to rain, and lightning split the clouds every so often. "It appears to be raining."  
"No shit, SuperTed."  
Part of the roof jutted out over them, so neither got wet, but Dub did worry about Kroko. "He seemed really freaked out after that fight today for some reason; you could make a cocktail out of the poor guy, he was shaking so much. I'd hate to be him right about now."  
Wood coughed, but made no comment.  
  
Roughly after that, the idea of Dub once again straying from their side to his was touched upon, but he smacked that down as quickly as he had the first time. What he would remember later as the irritating part of their talk was under way.  
"Dub, last time we had this discussion, I had twelve healees under my belt. I was going to get my seventeenth until you showed up. Clearly I am doing something right."  
"Yeah, but like you sai--" The turtle blinked, backtracked. "Wait, healees?"  
  
The Wood of later, thinking back on this pivotal moment, would call it a gamble akin to his slip of the tongue in the forest. Up until then, revealing that aspect of his recruitment to the enemy hadn't been high on his list of priorities. It hadn't fit into his plans. Yet.  
This wasn't to say, mind, that he hadn't been nurturing the idea already. His testing on Kroko had been part of it. But now that he had let it slip, something shifted, and he sensed an advantage. An idea for a better, more guaranteed way of pulling it off.  
After all, Dub had promised not to tell...  
  
"Did I not say?" he asked, following his hunch on an admitted whim. "The toys that fight for me do get something out of the deal. Namely, healing of existing mental disorders, and protection for those who do not yet have reason to worry."  
"Uh-huh. So, is this actual for real healing, or?"  
  
Wood gave his head a disapproving shake. "Dub, Dub, Dub. Do you honestly believe I fished my PhD out of a diploma mill? My change in circumstances does not prevent me from being medically qualified. If anything, my gift has increased my prowess at--"  
"That's the point though, isn't it? You've got that reality-warping thing going on with your powers."  
"Ja, yes I do. But I..." He had to bluff a tiny bit to get through this part, but it was worth it in the long run. "Who have I used this ability on so far?"  
"Well, us."  
"And what do all of you have in common?"  
"Uh, we're not on your side?"  
"Precisely. I wouldn't decieve any toy who doesn't antagonize me, Dub. I would help them avoid your position, in the same way as they help me. Call it... an auxillery power. A secret one."  
"Oh! That. That's nice of you." Was it a trick of the thundering light, or did the turtle just suppress the faintest of cringes?  
  
"I can even use you as a demonstrative subject, if you like. Is the possibility of getting better one that entices you?"  
  
Dub spat out a laugh, not a friendly one. "God, not you too, Wood? I've told the staff probably a thousand times:  **I don't have a problem.** "  
"Toys without problems don't tend to be found in asylums," the raven pointed out.  
"Just because someone decided that me running on a treadmill for three weeks was a good reason to commit me rather than, you know, training for when I get home doesn't mean I'm sick."  
Well... yes, training for that long on a single machine would be somewhat worrying to the expert's eye. But he didn't wish to risk pointing that out.  
  
"Perhaps so, but I did say I also provide 'shielding' to prevent mental problems coming up in the future," he tried again. "And just between you and me, we could use some, ahem,  _home support_  on our side of the fence."  
"So really, you're getting most of the benefit anyhow."  
"Not necessarily! Though now that you mention it, it would be nice to know how you manage to run circles around my fighter--"  
  
"Wood, I didn't come here to get a sermon!" Dub was audibly trying not to shout now, succeeding more with each sentence afterwards. "I came here to see you in a place where neither of us were eating dirt or fist. I mean, I'm glad you still  **want**  me on your side, but I. The others need me more than... I'll be okay. ... Honestly, I'm fine."  
It was no good. Wood had to acquiesce. "Okay, if you say so. ...You know, you never answered my question as to how you could sneak up on this place as silently as you did."  
"Can't we talk about something else?"  
  
So he did, and by the time that last line of conversation had come to its natural conclusion, the sky was even darker, the rain had died down, and the street lamps illuminated the visitor's way home. He might have mentioned something about telling the others he went for a jog around town; by this point, Wood's mind had been too busy ticking away to remember much of what he said.  
  
\---------------  
  
Ticking, as the hands and pendulum of a clock do, into the present, the middle of the day rather than the evening. Into twenty-one rather than twelve, fourteen, seventeen. And into a new understanding of what he had to do.  
  
What he had done to Kroko. What he had said to Dub. Fantasy, reality, seclusion, integration, honesty and dishonesty on either end. Dub had been hiding and dodging the questions, blatantly.  
He knew that truth now. And he knew, too, his plan in full.  
  
To get anywhere with the recruitment - defeat - of the enemy group, he had to discover Dub's little secret. And to do this, or perhaps as a result of this, he had to break him.  
Kroko had reacted to that water just the way he had wanted. Panicking, feeling the coldness, trying and failing to fly away. But that had only lasted for about a minute before Sly had set him free. If he could play on Dub's fascination and adoration, get the two of them alone, he could try that again. Just one more time, in a place where nobody could reach him or in to bring him back to stark-but-not reality.  
  
He didn't know what with. The turtle hid matters pertaining to the self better than he'd hidden that attraction. He might not even know they were there. But one way or another, he would be opened up, the stitches in his heart unsewn to clasp what was inside.  
And then his perception would change. He would see, hear, feel anything that could make him feel like he  _did_  have a problem, needed healing, needed help.  
  
With a strong enough dose of the power of the mind, it would last even when Wood dropped concentration.  
  
Then, only he could bring him back. Only he could cure him.  
And Dub would become the first healee from the other side. Not a powered toy, but a hole in their team, a hole through which discord could slip. A valuable asset. And that, in turn, would lead to...  
  
The fantasy, a dream world of his very own, drifted in to displace all doubt. For the first time, he felt it embrace him completely, wrap its tendrils all around him, all down the walls, through the door, until nothing was left in the room but his ideal.  
  
He  **would**  achieve what he had set out to do. He  **would**  bring the Claw Association into its zenith. Mundanes at the bottom, powered toys around, him on top of it all. He  **would**  be part of - no, the leader of the elite.  
  
He would be...  
  
a God.


	10. Damnum Absque Injuria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the last chapter I have 'backlogged' for this story. Unfortunately. I write this story with a five-chapter buffer, so I have to finish Chapter 16 before I can get Chapter 11 out, but that's been kicking my tail for about six months now. It should get a move on soon now that I've given myself further incentive to continue it, but... just know the wait from now could be anything from a week or two to another six months, depending on where my inspiration goes. Sorry, guys. 
> 
> \----------------
> 
> **Chapter theme** :  communication  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Cosmos (Outer Space) - t.A.T.u](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYh4R1aSGxI) (I particularly associate it with Lilo's writingasm. You'll know the scene I mean when you get there.)  
>  _Originally published on September 3rd 2012_

Of all the things expected to be very good at hiding secrets, houses were definitely up there. All the nooks and crannies that could be searched around, given enough spare time and energy left over from being scratched and climbed all over by kittens, hinted at revelations about the people who had lived here before (the graffiti by the stairs), at places to hide when distressed (there was a hole in the corner of the kitchen just small enough for any of them to squeeze into), even at potential tables.  
That last one had been somewhat spontaneous, but true all the same - during last evening, waiting for Kroko and Dub to get back, Sly had accidentally scorched a circle into the living room carpet by attempting to chase his tail in boredom. He'd been told off at first, and with good reason, but upon closer inspection Dolly, despite sparking, noticed it would be perfect for them all to sit around when they needed to actually discuss things as a group. "[That is, if them lot ever come home,]" she'd added in a worried tone, then she became more distressed than ever.  
  
First Dub, then Kroko, managed to sneak back into the house in the night, while he was trying to go to sleep in the cupboard next to the graffiti. And now all of them were around the 'table', he on the edge closest to the wall and the cabinet where Dolly slept, all arranged so everyone could see everyone. The topic of discussion: what to do with Wood and his Association, specifically in what order to defeat them.  
No, not the topic of discussion; discussion would imply calmness and quietness of speech. And now Lilo feared that the return of the two escapees had actually made little difference to the overall mood, if any.  
  
"[--don't want  **anyone**  to hurt, you know that,]" Kroko was saying as he phased his attention back to the array of voices.  
"[I know, but-]"  
"[Anyone means anyone, and that means Dr Wood too.]"  
"[Dr Wood has hurt you! He's hurt every one of us, even if just by poking us with a stick.]" Dolly's words came out as wisps of smoke, and the scorch mark had frozen over where she stood.  
  
"[So have all of it,]" Sly pointed out. "[Everyone's hit us and we need to hit them back hit!]"  
"[That's different. Wood's the only one with any horrible intent, so it's safe to-]"  
"[He doesn't  _have_  a view, he can't see us through the hood.]"  
"[Yes he can, and I said intent, not view. He's the only one who actually wants to hit us. We hit him back because he meant it, and we leave the other toys out of this.]"  
"[But they're right there though--]"  
  
"[But everyone hit us and we're not hitting them,]" interrupted the crocodile.  
"[Because they don't deserve it like he does! Compared to Wood, they're innocent in all this!]"  
"[They still hit us, Dolly. If they don't deserve to be hurt for hitting us, Wood doesn't either.]"  
"[Oh, so you're gonna let him scaring the shit out of you slide?]"  
Kroko flinched. "[I, I don't, didn't--]"  
"[Sorry, that was nasty,]" said Dolly, "[but you have to admit, he did scare you really badly. I'm not the only one he's hurt, and he's got to pay for it.]"  
  
Sly managed to get in again. "[If they're right there, hit everyone! Bam!]" He smashed his tail on the carpet for emphasis, the shockwave accidentally sending Dolly skidding backwards over her patch of ice.  
"[No-n-  **no!**  Anything they do is just what Wood told them to,]" she said as she tried to make her way back.  
"[But it feels good to hit things--]"  
"[ _I don't care if it feels good to hit things._  Anyway, they don't  **need**  to be, be hit. If we save our energy and take Wood down first-]" A cry out as she ended up crashing through the skid mark and into the toy opposite. "[Oops, sorry Kroko - they'll follow because they don't have someone to tell them what--]"  
  
"[And then Wood will get angry at us and hurt us even more, and then everyone will be upset again. I don't want any more fighting.]"  
Dolly sighed, almost guiltily, and back where she was, the breaths intermingling and whiter somehow. "[Kroko, fighting and hurting others is kind of an occupational hazard here.]"  
  
"[Then let's be a hazard and hurt the enemy!]"  
"[Sly, they're toys like us. They have names and they could break--]"  
  
Kroko and Sly's rebuttals came out at the same time, cutting out in the middle. "[You first, Sly.]"  
"[They're not like us, they don't make sparks fast or fire or flies. Kroko?]"  
"[Dr Wood is a toy too. He's a toy with a name, and you want to hit him.]"  
"[Exactly! ...Wait.]"  
  
"[Look, I don't think either of you are getting my point here...]" She yet again began to explain what she meant, and Lilo let the words blend back together. He instead shuffled the blocks around in his hand, feeling increasingly like the third - fifth - wheel.  
  
What was he even  **doing**  here?  
His overall place in the group was the same. The shield. He had gotten better at using the blocks in their back-to-back position to defend himself, thanks in no small part to the fear of Sly shocking him too much unnecessarily. The vacuum was still an issue to get, and there electricity was unavoidable. Either way, he didn't need to talk there. He was silent. They saw it as a problem, yes, and he did in part, but there was nothing they could do about it.  
And yet they refused to leave him out. When he'd tried to go back to his bedroom for contemplation - and there was always so much to think about in there, the world, the blanks in his past, the strange significance of the name Rose - Sly had all but dragged him back and Dolly had insisted he stay put at one end of the circle. Oxymoronic: the silent one, him, at the head of the 'talking table'.  
Him and Dub, actually, within arm's and stare's reach of each other. One who couldn't talk and one who could rarely say anything that they understood. He looked at Dub now, and he glanced back with... Was that sympathy? He couldn't tell.  
It wasn't that Lilo didn't have something to say. He knew his stance, where he placed himself. But he couldn't argue it, and what was the point of having toys at the debate table who couldn't contribute to the debate?  
  
Dolly called Dub's name at some point, asking him something, and the grip on the blocks tightened. That had only been half true. Even Dub could say something in a manner of speaking, more in the past few days. Her responsibility.  
So Lilo really was the only one who couldn't say anything at all, when he needed to the most.  
  
Dub fidgeted on the spot. What had the question been? Probably something simple, like whose side he was on. A tiny clearing of throat.  
"Et was  _tu_ -"  
Dolly coughed, looked at him askance.  
"Uh. Eh-  _Etwas tun._ "  
  
... [Do something.]  
God, of all the unhelpful statements...  
  
Kroko tried to bridge the gap. "[What- What something, Dub? We don't know what something you mean. Do you not want to hit Wood either?]"  
" _Etwas tun,_ " he said louder.  
"[I know you want to do something, but what? Dolly, tell him to tell us what somethi--]"  
"[I can't! I haven't gotten that far in the lessons yet!]" She moved back into the unknown language and asked Dub something else.  
" _Etwas tun!_ "  
"[I don't know what that means!]"  
  
Sly said something else and everyone began talking at once, possibly to drown him out. No more calm debate; calm had left long ago, and even "debate" was a stretch now that nobody could be heard above the others, all the words and enunciations crashing into each other and pushing Lilo closer to the wall and compressing him. He wanted nothing more than to get out of here, go to the stairs, or maybe that hidey-hole in the kitchen, but he couldn't get out. Dolly would see him, Sly would call him back, and he was stuck.  
Impulsively, he grabbed his blocks and bashed them together to send everyone away in the pulse, but even that wouldn't shut them up, slipping and sliding, and it made his stomach jolt. Just words, arguments, and he wanted quiet and he wanted to say something and he couldn't.  
He could do  **nothing**  he needed to do. He was helpless.  
  
In frustration, he kicked the cabinet. It really did nothing to calm him, besides giving him a stinging sensation in his foot, but at least it caught Kroko's attention, having found his way over to him. "[Lilo - Lilo, I know you're annoyed, but there's no need to hit the furniture.]"  
"[Damn it, you're even trying to defend the cupboards now?!]" her voice rose.  
  
But he ignored them. He had noticed something. The kick had not been entirely unneeded.  
It had dislodged something. The outline of a drawer. A secret compartment that, until then, he hadn't seen. Had any of them?  
  
He ducked down, placed the blocks aside, and pulled it open. It was rather stiff, like it hadn't been used for a while, but it came out eventually. Inside it was a treasure trove of writing utensils. No paper, but pens, pencils, permanent markers. Most of them looked new, and the non-lead products had their lids on, so there was a chance they still worked.  
More secrets hidden in this house...  
  
He grabbed a marker, removed the lid. Black. The scent of fresh ink was strong, pierced him like alcohol. It was definitely new. It felt chunky in his hand, solid.  
He could do something with this. He could get his opinion across, at long last.  
Now all he had to do was remember how to draw.  
  
The wall looked like a good place to start. There was wallpaper, but it was peeling anyway. There was no harm in writing over it, or even on the wall if it tore.  
In fact, it would even be easier to do that first. To make sure this image would not float by unnoticed.  
He tore one section of the loose sheet off of the wall, with a clean clear rip. The voices all stopped, and he could hear positions shifting, eyes boring into his back.  
Lilo had the spotlight.  
  
Hm... how to represent his idea?  
Dr Wood, first off. In the middle. A beak, shaped like a rounded triangle. A shaded circle, extruding lines to represent his hood. Body, more ovals for his toes. Wafer tail. A stick in one wing, to ensure they knew he hurt.  
  
"[Oh, so you  _can_  use a pen.]" Sly's voice was the only one heard for the first time in about two minutes.  
"[Don't be rude. Say sorry.]" Then Kroko's.  
"[No, I really didn't think-- I thought his hands were, like, lifts.]"  
  
It didn't do to dwell on Sly. Back on task.  
A circle around the raven. A shield sign on top, three points above, one below, curved edges.  
One slow thud floated in from behind him.  
A small bird to stand in for one of the other toys who had ambushed them all. It was a crude mock-up, and the ink smudged around the claws, but it would do.  
Another thud.  
Some more bird prints; not all of the minions were birds, but they were all the same in function. In what Wood wanted them to be. He drew thirteen more in all. He had to be exact in his numbering or it wouldn't look right to him.  
  
A third, extra loud clunk.  
"Oww!"  
"[Sly, quit that,]" the female voice scolded.  
"[But I'm a lift too and his tail--]"  
"[I said  **stop**.]"  
  
Lilo blocked the voices almost completely, he had to focus. A shifting to the right and he drew Dolly. There were five of them, but Dolly was the leader so she would know what he meant by that. Her muzzle, her fluffy ears and body and tail - a smack off to his right, a sizzle - her rounded legs with exactly seven dots on each. An arrow curving from her to, for now, just outside the ring of birds.  
He turned around to make sure that -- yes, everyone was paying attention to him now, scattered across the floor, except Sly, who was peeling himself off the front window. He moved again, so they could all have a good look at it.  
  
"[Ooh! That's very good, Lilo,]" Kroko said after scanning it from left to right, holding onto his tail. "[I didn't know you could... I wish I could draw like that.]"  
Typically, he had gotten the wrong end of the stick. He tapped the arrow to bring him back to it.  
  
"[No, hold on, I think he's trying to say something with this.]" Dolly came closer to the image, fortunately landing on a non-icy part of the carpet, and studied it from a few angles. "[Okay, the sheep is meant to be me. Or us? Possibly us.]" Well done, Dolly. "[And we have to follow the arrow. I think he's saying that we have to ignore the lesser toys to get to--]"  
Lilo shook his head. And she had been doing so well.  
"[No? What do we do then?]"  
  
He underlined the shield above them all, once, twice.  
"[We have to defend ourselves against-?]"  
Then he drew another arrow, pointing to the line between Wood and birds.  
  
"[Oh, I see! Wood is using the Association as a shield! To protect himself from getting hurt. And we have to...?]"  
He moved the first arrow around and around one bird, crossing through it.  
"[We have to take down the shield,]" she said in growing realization. "[Make it smaller, so he has less of a chance of defending himself. Hurt him by proxy.]"  
It slipped through the gap, went right through the one in the middle, turned into a circle of its own.  
  
"[Two birds with one stone...]" she murmured.  
Yes.  
  
Everybody appeared to be taking that in, drawing and translation and all. Lilo could feel the pen shake slightly in his hand. Had he done enough? Had he actually added something of value to this argument?  
He had to have, right?  
  
At last, another breath from Dolly. Not visible this time, though it was still chilly in the air. "[Well,]" she said simply. "[I have to admit, Lilo: you've got a point there. I'm still not sure I like the idea of hurting the small fry--]"  
"[Nor do I,]" squeaked Kroko, ignored.  
"[--but if you think it'll make Wood himself more vulnerable, I guess we don't have a choice. Sly, you agree too? Dub?]"  
"[We have to hit them, yep.]" That came from Sly, and a nod from the turtle, struggling to stand up on the ice.  
  
"[So it's settled.]" A falter, then she looked at him. She'd looked to him before, but here, it felt like she could actually see him. Like she knew he breathed and thought, not just existed. "[Good job, Lilo. I knew I put you at that table for a reason.]"  
Lilo could have hugged her at that moment. ...Were he not afraid of infringing her and his personal bubbles. And he was, so he contented himself with a smile that nearly split his face.  
  
"[Actually, looking at that gives me a bit of an idea--]"  
A sound of fabric against itself, and Kroko was suddenly in a ball. "[No, no arguing anymore, no more yelling!]" he cried, voice breaking.  
"[Kroko, I'm not going to yell, I'm just thinking--]"  
"[No more no no more!]"  
"[Okay, okay. I'll let you go off, come up with some ideas of your own. Let's meet back up when we've all got one. Sly, you'd better stay here, I still need to work on--]"  
  
But everyone, bar her and Lilo himself, had already gone.  
  
****  
  
Once she had managed to leave the room to catch up to the snake, Lilo sat down by his drawing. He wanted to wait for the ice to melt before he risked going across there anyway, to prevent any further hurting of his foot. A soggy carpet was honestly the lesser of two evils in his mind.  
  
Besides, it gave him time to think about what he had just done.  
Or rather, what he had found. He had found a more secure place. Some respect. A voice, in the form of a marker pen and a picture on a wall.  
Perhaps that was why he hadn't put the pen down yet. He'd replaced the lid, certainly; he couldn't let the ink dry out. But he still held it in his hand, despite its hiding place being open, calling for it back with its silent jaw agape.  
  
The gaping maw of a drawer could, under normal circumstances, say more than a hippo with an actual mouth.  
He would not give up that advantage. He would not put the pen back. He had a way to communicate, and he intended to make the most of it, while it was warm between the grip of his palm and thumb.  
Even if no one but him was there to "hear" him.  
  
The lid came off.  
  
He had already drawn Wood and Dolly. So he drew Kroko next. Long snout, two curved scratch marks for nostrils. Wide eyes, thick pupils, one of them looked awkward but he couldn't fix it now. His back made up of stitches, dashes, from the top of his head to the tip of his tail, not forgetting the little tag at the bottom. Points for claws, curved hands and feet, hatching on the underbelly because there were no pink pens, pouch.  
Dub next, a collection of circles. Eyes, nose and mouth under two visible lumps on his upper skull, long neck and a shell that arced. He drew him skipping because that was what he had seen him do the most, back in the asylum. One foot down, flat against an invisible ground, one foot kicking behind, thinner leg at the back, had to remember perspective, eye of visual. A long thin line for the rope, over his head from one end to the next. Speed lines.  
The ever elastic Sly. More freedom here, the whole wall to work with, for he was a long long reptile with space to fill. A head and a tongue and a body that swayed and turned up and down in directions that felt impossible to draw but looked somehow functional once he checked the thing over. Exactly twenty-three segments under the head and above the tail, five-ring, all of equal length, about five of his hands each. Jagged lightning lines around him for the static he made.  
A self portrait now. His eyes, that wobbled. His head, that waved. His ears, that flopped despite their small size. Nostrils, shaky movements for his zip, and the pulley, two squares in a rectangle. Rotund body, feet, arms, pointy elbows. For further irony, he drew himself drawing something on the selfsame wall, an echo of the pen that created itself emerging from the end. The ink came ever smoother with each marking.  
No more toys to draw, so props instead, a pile of the objects that helped and hindered them. His blocks, apart, one C and one T, side by side, with the short ends prominent. A blanket, formless and creased, just to the right of them; with every new patch of wall he drew on he had to take another step in that direction, otherwise they would all be crowded together in one spot and no one would be able to see them. The timer that Dub used to escape, stripe down the middle, four buttons at each corner, a sliver for the LED screen that blinked in reality. What mattered most to Dolly? She didn't have anything, nor Sly, so nothing for them. To make up for it, he drew a more detailed version of the bird he'd made before, turned it into a robin, with a black patch on its forehead. That would be them until they gained something of value.  
It looked a little bit like one of the toys they had fought before, so he tried to draw them all from memory. This was difficult, as he had rarely had the chance to get a good look at them, what with them hitting everybody and all. The kittens he got okay. The rabbit was unmissable, as was the teddy bear and ferret, but when he tried to draw the rest they emerged as a single entity that didn't look like anything in particular, so before he realized what he was doing he wrote [Demon] next to it to clarify it to himself.  
Wrote, he could write as well as draw, why hadn't he thought of that? He could write and make words appear, words and letters. A B C D E F G. Umlauts on the vowels, the sharp S. He wrote all of their names. Lilo Kroko Dolly Dub Sly Dr Wood. Rose Rose Rose, three times, who could that be? Kindermann Spieler Nadel. Freund Kuscheltiere die Anstalt. [I can write] - this one he wrote in extra large letters, capital, reaching as high as he could go, until ICH KANN SCHREIBEN made up a chunk of the wall, moving so easily, so unfettered, over the surface, not caring about the faded pattern on the paper anymore. He could write he could write he had written he could write communicate think function, do more than exist, so to hell with the wallpaper!  
With words and letters came counting and maths. Eins zwei drei, in written and numeric form, he was still clever there. He knew how to count. He could add up, one plus two was three. He could subtract, three minus two was one. He could multiply, he could divide, and an equation came to life on the board, the alphabet and the number system one and the same now. Algebra, he could make algebra and prove he was smarter than he looked, smarter than they had taken him for even beyond tactics. Brackets and equal signs, and what was he calculating? He had to be proving something or else what was the point? He drew the blocks again, this time joined, the length of one of the lines, or possibly the gravitational force that occurred when they came together, but more likely the former as he was better at maths than science; everyone had said so before he was put into the clinic, he remembered more now, their voices louder as he wrote, merging into a lowering scream like the blocks in his dream. Picture not to scale, it couldn't be, the blocks were on the other side of the room by now, but everything in line, measurements as exact as he could. One of the lines was X, he had to find X, one plus X squared, Y plus Y-times-three squared, 42, X Y Z, arrows, square roots of X cubed. The pen squeaked as the ink began to run out but he continued anyway, there were always more pens in that drawer and always more walls to write on. Multiplications and reversals and powers of and finally an answer in reach, an answer tantalizingly close on the pastel blue and pink and white. X equalled something important. X equalled one hundred and thirty sev--  
  
Something in him froze and he dropped the pen.  
  
The number was two thirds there. No taking it back now. There in black and blue. He tried to figure out why that was scaring him, turning the insides of his brain numb and unthinking, but nothing came except white noise.  
  
In an instant, his mouth shook.  
  
He clapped his hands over it to stop it, stepped backwards into sodden carpet, but still it shook. His nostrils, the zip, the pulley, all vibrated under his touch, and rumbled and rattled.  
  
In his head, there was only silence again.  
  
****  
  
It wasn't until he heard her say "[Oh crap, Lilo, are you okay?]" that he even realized Dolly had re-entered the room.  
His mouth had been vibrating on and off over the course of however long it had been since it started. Sometimes it stopped, for an extended moment, just long enough for him to tap it to make sure, but every time he felt like it would cease all together, it came back just as strong as before until he didn't trust himself to move a muscle. So he just sat there, arms clasped over his jaw, looking at the startled right now sheep and praying for help.  
As best as he could.  
  
The other toys came inside in a clump, possibly to find out what Dolly was talking about. Sly moved slowly for once, oozing over the wet floor, and Kroko remained in the doorway just kind of looking on, but otherwise everyone was around him for the second time that day, this time not so much curious as confused. Wind blew sparks around the room where she stood, occasionally making the burns that marked the table crackle and fizz.  
Not a bad metaphor for what he was feeling, he thought. Things that poked and prickled his insides, his thoughts, his perception of pain.  
  
"[Are you okay? Lilo?]" Dolly repeated. "[What happened? Did you write all this?]"  
He turned to point out the offending number, stopped when the shaking came surging back, twice-fold,  _oh god it hurt_. He tried to resist curling up around himself to stop it. That was a Kroko-style defense mechanism, and he had to be stronger than that.  
"[What's wrong with your mouth? Steiff, it sounds like a washing machine in there...]"  
How did she think it sounded to  _him_ , or even felt, the noise touch sensation of a thousand crashing plastic metal bars?  
"[Lilo, what's going on?]"  
He didn't know, he didn't  **know** , and that was what frightened him the most, the unfamiliarity, the mingled sense and nonsense. The crowd became closer and he pressed himself against the wall, almost slipping on the pen.  
  
He thought he heard a rustle from the outside of the room. What was Kroko doing? He couldn't see or look to find out.  
A shrill note, then a song, answered his question, fortunately making everyone else back off as well as they turned to see it for themselves.  
"[Kroko, this isn't the time for-- where did you get that flute?]"  
He stopped playing it. "[From the place I went to get out of the rain. I just borrowed it. I'm playing the tune to calm down,]" said Kroko from the distance.  
"[Just a guess, but I don't think music is going to help Lilo here.]"  
"[No, to calm  **me**  down. There's water in the carpet.]" He shivered himself, and that just set his own mouth off again. The gurgling, the buzzing, nothing else but this.  
  
"[ _Kroko, that's not the point!_  You can play your song later; right now there's someone here with a shaking mouth I can't do anything about!]" Dolly insisted.  
"[Nor can I, if there's water in the--]"  
"[Right, of course you can't. Can't  **anyone**  do anything about this?!]" She asked Dub something, but he shook his head. "[What about you, Sly? Can't you shock him or something?]"  
  
...  
"[Uh, Sly?]"  
  
Yes, Sly was acting rather oddly. He had gone quiet and still since he had gained a good view of this wretched hippo. No spoken phrases completely at odds with the situation. No comments about the markings on the wall. Only watching, staring at him, pupils contracting, widening. Not completely unjustified, it just didn't feel natural attached to Sly of all toys.  
  
"[Ahem. Sly. Hello?]"  
  
The snake flicked his tongue, minutely adjusted his head. He hadn't even known he was in the room, had he?  
"[Lilo, your mouth is shaking,]" he said. The blatantly obvious, but not said as such. More... fascinated.  
  
"[Yes, Sly, it is. And? How does that help anyone?]" Dolly was getting less electric at least.  
  
No response to her, but moving steadily closer to him. "[The shaking is making noises. That means something in your mouth is making it shake and noises. You don't want your mouth to shake and noises...  
"[ **But _I_  want it!**]"  
  
And with that outburst right into his eardrum, Sly grabbed his pulley with curled tail and dragged the zip across his mouth.  
  
NO, his mind slipped into panic mode, DON'T GET IT OPEN GET OFF. No thought, no rationale, he smacked the appendage away, hard, pulled it back, no damage done.  
Except for the safety pin lying on the ground. From his mouth.  
  
"[No, Sly! Bad!]"  
"[But he's making shake noises!]"  
  
How had a safety pin gotten in there? Why did Sly want to go through what he was? How long had it been there?  
What else was inside of him he didn't know about? He didn't want to think about it, what really made the sounds when he trembled, it was too stomach twisting to comprehend, the thought of so many sharp things inside of him and there it was again, the feeling, the sight, the creases in his mouth, some of which tasted metallic from the pin in hindsight.  
  
He picked the thing up, on autopilot now. Something, deep down, hinted at the right path. He tried to push it down, and it fought back. It would hurt for a while, but then it would go away and he wouldn't have to cope with the shaking again, undoing him.  
"[What are you doing with that, Lilo?]" someone else asked him, but it sounded far away either way, under the mess attached to his face.  
  
He unfastened the bar from its hook.  
  
"[Lilo, I hope you're not doing something bad with that--]"  
"[Give me that back, if it makes you shake I want it--]"  
" _Bitte, etwas tun--_ "  
"[Stop Lilo put that down stop god Lilo don't PLEASE--]"  
  
And a single movement, a piercing, right through the cotton skin, into him, out of him, deep cuts.  
  
Coping. Unfeeling.  
Release.  
  
It came back together with a click.  
  
The euphoria of escape was sadly short lived. It soon gave way to a burning regret.  
He'd done something like that in front of...  
"[L-Lilo, why did you...?]" Whose voice? What did it matter? He couldn't answer. Back to muteness. Back to only existence.  
He had to get out. They didn't want to see him, clearly. And he didn't want to see them.  
He couldn't see their faces now anyway. He couldn't say sorry, or even choke it out of the pen, discarded. He could do  **nothing**.  
He pushed past them, through the sting of currents, out of the living room, away from his communication with the world no matter how brief, past Kroko's worried form, back to his bedroom under the stairs.  
  
He could take it no more. And thanks and no thanks to him, he didn't have to take more.  
No more unzipping. No more shaking. No more unknowns, confusion, crowding, pulsing, empty minds, full minds.  
  
The Lilo that had emerged when holding that pen was, for now, no more.


	11. Me Vexat Pede

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's alive... IT'S ALIIIIIIIVE
> 
> Edit: With a minor hiccup, but it's still ALIVE. ~~Pede, Kara... not 'Peday'...~~
> 
> \----------------
> 
>  **Chapter theme** :  fixation  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Major Minus - Coldplay](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1O9X0_WNTY)

Tonight was going to be a big big night for Sly. For all of them, really, but mostly for Sly, because he hadn't had a big much of anything yet.  
  
He'd had a lot of small things since the extra large one, the glowing light that made everyone have superpowers. He'd had some headaches from running into trees and doors, and a few buzzy feelings when he made sparks really fast, and his tail (his unshaking no good at all tail), and the mice obviously. He'd even made a table all by himself! But they were only small things, not enough to stop other toys from looking at him funny when he talked to them.  
That would change soon. Everybody would be on a mission tonight, one that would make them proper doesers and superheroes like in D-Gruppe, and Sly had a very important job to do inside it. He had responsibility, and that made him want to pop to get out all the happiness.  
  
But he couldn't really pop because that would make a mess all over the stairs. He was tangled around the long stick propped up at the non-wall side where he'd been going to sleep since he found it, tail at the bottom and head at the top. (Kroko called the stick a banister, but it didn't look old or broken enough to be one of those.) If he popped now, it would be hard for Lilo to get out of bed and clean him up and put him back together, and then he wouldn't be able to do anything, let alone the big thing he was looking forward to. And he  **really**  wanted to do the big thing, almost as much as he wanted shaking and noises.  
So he didn't pop. He just looked at his tail and hissed at it instead for not getting the shaking right. It waved at him.  
  
He'd started trying to think if he would be able to sleep at all because of the excitement when Dolly came into the hall, grassing all over the place, to remind him about the thing. "[Hey Sly, you remember what we planned for tonight?]" she asked.  
"[Course I do,] ja ja! [I can't stop thoughts about it.]"  
"[Good, then you can tell me yourself.]"  
"[Wait, how can I have it and you don't? That's a little silly.]"  
"[Oh, I 'have it',]" she said with a grim tone. "[I just happen to know what you're like. It's in one ear and out the other with you, most times.]"  
"[I remember too, Dolly! Why would I forget if I'm important to it and...]"  
  
No, she was telling the truth. Sometimes Sly did forget things and it got him into trouble. He didn't forget an entire fight like she'd done once, but he didn't remember much at all before the man in the hat left either. And he hadn't been there for as long as Dolly and Lilo and Kroko, who couldn't remember much of  _their_  pasts, so for him there was no excuse, the doctors had always said. Or at least the pretty grey snake with glasses had said.  
Even then, they had chunks of before. Dolly had kindergarten, and Kroko had his blanket and the cereal box with the spoon on the side. He didn't know about Lilo, but he probably had a memory or two underneath the shaking, the thing he wanted  _so badly_ right now, she had no idea.  
  
All Sly could dig up was scraps and tiny bits. Colours and bass. Lights with no shape to them, a white one. A name, Ali, and someone else. And, for some reason, the word [candy].  
Some days were better for memories than others, and today was a bad day with a big night.  
  
"[Sly? Earth to Sly. Hey!]" Case in point. He'd forgotten to finish speaking again.  
"[Oh. Dolly sorry.]"  
Ack, that wasn't what he meant. Sly had speech problems on top of everything. He tried to say what he meant when he said something; sometimes it worked, most of the time not. Wires were crossed up in his head and thinkings.  
  
"[Let's give that another go, shall we? Do you remember what we're doing tonight?]"  
He nodded fiercely. "[I said yes! We're going to go find where Dr Wood lives and get into his house.]"  
"[And why?]"  
"[Because Lilo said to break through the shield this afternoon, and you said something about reading. Literate?]"  
"[I said we had to  _literally_  break through it, but close enough.]"  
  
"[Then once we get inside, I have a very important job,]" continued Sly, flicking his tongue. "[I have to stay ahead and spark the lights so everyone can follow me around the house and we don't get cut apart.]"  
"[Exactl-]"  
"[Because I'm speed, you see.]"  
"[Exactly. We can't afford to get lost, so you'd better not screw this up.]"  
"[And then we all find the smaller toys in their rooms, and boosh!]" He tried to make a pounding motion with his no good bad awful tail, but it was too entwined in the stairs, so it didn't look nice. "[We hit the enemies super hard to get the sparks out of me.]"  
  
"[Sly, that's not what we agreed on!]" she snapped, and her air got all wobbly. "[This is a  **stealth**  mission. We're just giving the place a once-over so we know how many Wood's got and what he does to them to make them so loyal, to help us break it later on. We can't go around hitting everything and letting them know we're here, or else what's the point of sneaking in?!]"  
  
He felt his eyes rolling. "[Well, it should have been,]" he said under his breath.  
  
This didn't make Dolly any more pleased, but she didn't press the issue for once. "[Feh. Well, you got most of it, anyway. Well done.]"  
"[Does that mean I'm doing good?]"  
"[Mmhm. Just keep that up when we're actually in the building and we might be able to get somewhere.]"  
"[Don't worry,]" he promised, "[I'll try.]"  
"[Good. I'm going to bed. Dub will probably wake you up when it's time to go--]"  
  
"[Actually, I'll do it.]" Kroko poked his head in from around the living bedroom door with the floor that wasn't icky-sticky anymore. "[I can see the moon better from in here.]"  
"[Okay then, Kroko will wake you up, Sly. So don't fall too deep asleep. Goodnight,]" she finished before she headed back inside and Sly was left to himself.  
  
Or to his tail. His mixed up tail, that wasn't really one, on the banister that wasn't either.  
For all of the good exciting things that were going to happen tonight, this had been the one red spot. Lilo had shaken earlier, with his mouth, and that had caught Sly's attention more than anything else had so far. Lots of things had been all shaky and made noises, but not like this - not like clinking clacking gurgle sounds, like beads in a sink.  
He stretched out in annoyance, looked up and down himself.  
He hadn't liked his tail much before, even when the white mice got up on it to talk to him when Dr Spieler first came along. But earlier, he'd realized why. Lilo had what a hippo shouldn't have, but he had what a snake should. And Sly was a snake. A snake with like a million colours on him, even in this dark, but still a snake.  
  
Bottom line: his tail was not a rattle. And Sly wanted and wanted it to be a rattle.  
  
"[It's not fair,]" he said to the disrespectful part. He knew he sounded like whining, but he didn't care. "[It's not fair about Lilo with - and the fault being. It just isn't.]"  
  
"[Sly, it wasn't your fault.]"  
That voice, it was of a mouse. But the mouse had never sounded that worried before, just high pitched until it made his brain hurt, and it was never invisible. He checked the room for it and found that it wasn't a mouse at all, it was Kroko, still in the doorway.  
"[What Lilo did isn't because of you, okay?]" said the crocodile not mouse, comforting. "[I think he would have done it anyway just to make the shaking stop. And he seems to be better now. So please don't let it make you sad. It's going to be all right tonight.]" Then he went away too.  
  
Sly knew Lilo would be fine. Lilo was always fine. Everyone was always fine.  
It was the snake that wasn't a proper snake, not really, that he was worried about.  
  
Not right now, though. It was time to try and go to sleep.  
  
\---------------  
  
Sly tried and tried. He tossed and turned, and he clicked his neck in the orange spot a few times, and he hummed to himself extra quietly in a tune he was making up himself, and he couldn't and wouldn't sleep. The darkness was all over him but he couldn't reach it like he usually could because of the important thing that he'd have to do that he wanted to do right now now  **now**. And even when he thought he was going to have a dream, he heard bells instead, and he wondered what they meant and then he was all awake again.  
  
So when Kroko came back to get him and Lilo down, he didn't need much prompting to slide off the stairs. Lilo came out from under them shortly after, with no shake noises anymore because of the pin in his mouth. It looked like it hurt and Sly wanted to grab it, but no one would let him.  
Waking Dub up was kind of fun; he refused to budge for some reason, and Sly had to pull the drawer out and turn it on its side to finally send him rolling out of himself. Dolly was just as tired too when they went to her, but that was good, Kroko said, as she'd be better at hiding them while they went to Dr Wood's house because of all the thick black smoke.  
"[Dammit, I'm walking dead on my feet here and you want to use me as a goddamn smokescreen?]" she said in a yawn, rubbing her eyes.  
"[That's what you said you wanted to do earlier, yeah.]"  
"[Well, don't want it anymore. Want sleep.]"  
  
There was some more back and forth between the two while Lilo went to the wall to take his blocks back and Sly looked around at nothing in particular. Everyone was going to be sneaky tonight, but he was the only one with an extra important job. And he was going to be really good at it and nobody would call him an idiot or useless anymore, and then maybe he could have a working tail as a reward.  
 _[Shiva, please let this work,]_  he prayed.  
  
Once Kroko managed to convince Dolly to be just awake enough for smoke ("[Okay, fine, but I'm not bloody happy about it]"), it was time to go. They slipped out of the front door in a huddle pile and checked the streets for anyone who could spot them. But it was really dark inside the other houses across the way, and the lights on the side of the road were just ordinary yellow now that the Christmas bits were gone, so they were safe.  
  
The bird crocodile, after flying up and down for height, led them past where they had fought Dr Wood last time and Sly had caught him falling and screaming. At a fork in the road, to the right, then to the left. The moon up top, mostly round like rock cheese, played peek-a-boo with them, going in and out of gardens and hinting the way. They looked in the windows and doors of most of the buildings they passed at first, but at some point it was decided that with that many toys following him, Wood would have a bigger place to live, so they needed to find a bigger house.  
There was a lot of jostling in the smoke; it spread out in a circle of its own wide enough for one toy to fit each side, but he was really long so there was more squashing on his end to fit in all the way. Lilo accidentally walked into him sometimes to get shocked, which was helpful to him since Sly made so many sparks, even if slow right now, and he didn't want to hurt himself by having too much of them.  
More walking and flying and spinning, but after this point Kroko didn't know the way as well, so they were mostly guessing. More than once they ended up back where they'd been before. Sassnitz was a big town for five cuddle toys (cuddle huddle muddle fuddle), so it was less surprising and more dizzy-making. He hoped the house wouldn't be as big as the world, and that he'd be able to attack at least one thing to get the worry out.  
  
About halfway there, he got his second wish. There was one house that hadn't taken down their decorations, including a plastic snowman that flashed blue on and off and on. Sly seized up when he saw it and it stared at him and blinked and every instinct in his head and body and wrong tail screamed  **[MAKE IT GO AWAY]**.  
  
"[The light was blue and flashing,]" he told Dolly afterwards, who had pulled him free just after he broke the thing. "[I don't like blue flashing lights. S-so I hit it.]"  
She didn't believe him and he got told off. On the upside, it did make more smoke to hide in, even if it was angry smoke rather than sleepy.  
  
Dub got more fidgety the closer they got, and more sure too. He took turns on his own when everybody else was stuck as to where to go. Sly asked him if he knew the way, but through Dolly he learned that he just had a basic instinct. He knew  _that_  feeling.  
Feeling, swirling, swirling. Moving along the ground, in the dark light, in the smoke. Unlost but lost, confused.  
  
And then, after sweeps of houses and street lights, they were in what felt like the centre of town and in front of the asylum. No, not the asylum, though it looked about as tall as it, really really tall and wide with a lot of windows and solid brown wood outside, maybe Wood inside too. Even Dolly thought so: "[Way too big for him, right in the middle - yup, it's Wood's place all right.]"  
  
The double door was open, either because the lock was too high for most toys to reach or because Lilo used blocks on it to make sure. Quietly, they sneaked inside, through the smallest gap they could, and it got a lot darker in there. No lights at all, only the leftover sparks leaping over his body when he stopped.  
The very important job was beginning, and more so than ever before. Sly felt fantastically proud of himself, and wiggled and crackled to show it, but then the wiggling went all the way down to his tail, and it didn't rattle, and he felt down again.  
  
The hero toys started in the middle of a long hallway that stretched from their lefts to their rights. The room just ahead of them was full of tables and chairs, but little else from what Sly could see and tell them. They then made their way to the first side, checking every single door and every single place to hide things, and there were billions of doors and hides. Some squeaked as they opened, but not enough to disturb anybody.  
The inside of each room was cramped, with beds, and plushies inside of them, sleeping like he couldn't. In one of them, shadows of the kittens that had hurt Lilo before were all curled up on the quilt. In another, something with an extra long neck was in the closest bed. He got up really close to see if it was a snake like Wood had promised, but it was actually a swan, and getting that near to it made Kroko squeak in agitation.  
Square upon square of nothing but toys that he couldn't hit.  
  
The corridor took forever and ever to walk down, because everyone but him was still tired. Sly found himself getting annoyed-bored; even if the job was important, something should happen in it. His mind wandered around the place, his eyes too, body, not-tail...  
Maybe if he couldn't get the pin out of Lilo's mouth, he could at least find something else that would make shake noises? It was worth a go.  
  
He found a broken door handle on the ground, he shook it. That didn't make any noise at all, he threw it at the wall.  
He found a bathroom and a roll of toilet paper on a stick, he shook it. That didn't make the right noise, thunks and shifting and creasing, he threw it and it landed in the loo with a splosh, much to Dub's disgust.  
He came out of the bathroom and up further away and found a radiator keeping everything warm and toasty, he shook the metal bit. That didn't sound right either; heck, it didn't even move. He tried to carry on but Kroko had gone back to get away from the water sounds, so they had to wait for him.  
He found a can of something or other, he shook it. Something sloshed around, but it wasn't rattly per se, he threw it and it hit the radiator and made loud clangings that sounded good, but not correct.  
  
Dolly turned on him when the clanging stopped. "[Sly, what are you doing?!]" she whispered but shouted at the same time.  
"[Trying to find shake noises.]"  
"[Well, don't! What part of "we have to be quiet and sneaky" don't you understand?]"  
"[You're being yelly yourself, Dolly,]" he pointed out. "[How can you yell at  _me_  for wanting what  _I_  want when you clearly have to keep your voice down to make it feel better?]"  
"[...You know what, I'm not even going to bother answering that.]"  
  
Sly had to be careful after the can. He went sparks medium and only tried to rattle things that he found lying around when nobody else was looking. That was often as they all took a peep in the bedrooms most times, or went straight ahead when they went back the way they'd come. Sly even managed to slip into a room with lots of stairs and banisters that were also not broken, and stayed there for a while trying out all the tight rods to see if one would come loose, then when he came out they'd disappeared, probably to look for him.  
He felt a little cheeky, shirking off the job, but it had to be done if he was going to find things in peace.  
  
Off he went, all over the floor, sliding and dancing along. He ran into a few splinters here and there, but they didn't make the right sound either, and they hurt too. Doors and doors and doors, ones he'd seen before, ones he hadn't, lots and lots of them...  
  
Then, at the far right, was a high thin one that, when swung open, led to a cupboard with a single dangling light on the ceiling. He could see what he was doing now.  
And he could see a whole lot of  _things_  piled up. Something in here had to make the right sound.  
  
With an "ooh" of interest, he dived into the room fully and searched everything. Why hadn't they come here first? There were so many things!  
There were soft things. Two cushions of different shapes and colours, a pile of small clothes, and a jumper that was big enough for him to slip through all the way without stretching it. But they didn't jingle or jangle.  
There were fake things that looked real. He tried to eat chocolate as he hadn't had anything since the oatmeal Dolly said he didn't have, but it tasted unsweet and silent on his tongue so he stopped licking it.  
There were gruesome things. A paw and an eye stared up at him. He didn't even try to shake those.  
  
He had most fun with the round things. A stone that felt smooth like chalk. A ball with see-through bits and blue bits, that shone and twinkled as he rolled it all over the floor, around and around. He could have played with it for hours.  
He reached for a red ball to do the same thing, grabbed onto it, lifted it up -  
  
\- wait. A clash of something against plastic. Beads, or sand. It wasn't a ball, and if it was it was on a stick, and a ball on a stick that had beads in it was...  
  
He shook it. It made just the right sound for him, and brought out another, a triumphant cry.  
"[Rattle tail!!]"  
  
Again he waved it around, left right at top speed. Yes, definitely a rattle, a maraca, round at the top and thin at the bottom, small, but really well made. This was great! He had a rattle and now the others didn't have--  
The others, he had to tell the others about his find! He'd gone away from them and left them in the dark, but the fact he'd found this and so much other stuff would make that not so bad.  
He burst out of the same room, raced back the way he came, fizzing, ultra quick, familiar comfort sounds behind him.  
  
They were at the complete opposite side, peering into the furthest room away from the cupboard, and Kroko was saying something, but he couldn't tell what because he was so happy. "[Guys guys guys guys guys guys!]" he called to them.  
Dolly wheeled around at his sound, smoke still hanging around. "[Sly? Where have you been?!]" Dub shushed her, but it didn't work. "[We've had to find our way to Wood's--]"  
  
"[I've been looking for shake noises and rattles and I found a whole room of things and I found a rattle! Listen!]" He shook it again, extra loud, ringing out to the very top of the roof. Everybody needed to know that he, Sly, had a rattle tail at long long last!  
  
...No. Not everybody, as he found out in what happened next.  
"[What? What's happening?]" Some rustling, some thuds, and a really big bear came out of the room second nearest to them, much bigger than any of them, with angry blue buttons for eyes. "[Oi, what are you doing with my stuff?!]"  
Okay,  **he**  didn't need to know.  
  
"[Someone broke in!]" "[Intruders!]" "[Someone stole something!]"  
The rushing in toys that had beaten him up and snuck on him before maybe didn't need to know.  
  
And Dr Wood, appearing suddenly in the edge of the doorway ahead of Sly and the like,  **definitely**  didn't need to know, no sir.  
"[Well, isn't this a rare pleasure. Can I ask what you're all doing in my headquarters at this time of night?]"  
  
"[RUN!]"  
Kroko and Dolly pulled them all away before anyone could say anything else.  
  
No one got out properly unhurt. Sly was grabbed and twisted up by the bear, but a whack on the head with the rattle managed to get him out and he sparked and sparked to the door. The others were all hit to some degree too, Dolly mostly, because some small plastic dogs could catch her in the corner and make electricity fall from the sky and really rail on her in the smoke. Dub couldn't do his secret surprise until he'd gotten free of the big brown bunny, and he managed to take Lilo across too in the mess probably. But all of them found themselves outside in the end, far far away from the house, panting, breathing like nauseous, but free.  
  
To make it better, the rattle had come with him. He shook it to calm his racing thoughts, but that only made the rest glare at him, either coldly or madly. Uh-oh.  
  
"[...Um. I didn't do the important job right, did I?]"  
  
\---------------  
  
"[Dolly, I said  _I said I'm sorry_!!]" Sly said for what might or might not have been the thirty-seventh time.  
  
They were all home by now. It was easier getting to there than getting to the other there. Dub and Lilo had gone back to bed in a sort of huff; Kroko was clinging to the blanket, which he had left behind, in the doorway again; and Dolly was making burning hot rain and smashing her head on the wall.  
  
"[He did say sorry, Dolly.]" The crocodile sounded really worried. "[You're going to hurt yourself if you don't--]"  
"[ **Good.** ]" She ran into it again, fell back onto her own tail. "[The more I get this disaster out of my head, the better.]"  
  
"[I'm soooooooorryyyyyyyyyy.]" Thirty-eighth, or was  _that_  the thirty-seventh?  
"[Sly, sorry isn't good enough here. You made me bloody freak out again. You cost us a critical mission. You made everyone get hurt when we didn't need to be. You risked this - ]" smash - "[for a goddamn]" - smash - "[rattle!]"  
  
He turned to it, shook it again. Chaka-chaka. His tail still didn't make the noise on its own, but he had something to make it for him and make him a proper snake. And they were all for realsies heroes now, having sneaked around and stuff.  
That was a good thing, yes?  
  
"[Dolly, think about it, please,]" Kroko said in an attempt at calming her down. "[The rattle belonged to somebody else in the enemy side, right?]"  
"[WHICH IS HALF OF THE BLOODY PROBLEM.]"  
"[Yes, but the fact that it wasn't with him at all means--]"  
"[Means that the idiot stole it.]" Bash. So he couldn't not be called an idiot then.  
"[ _No_! It means that Dr Wood takes items away from whoever joins him. That means there's something he gives them, right? You don't take something without giving something.]"  
"[Tell that to Sly, not me,]" she snapped.  
"[Okay. Sly, you don't take something without giving something.]"  
  
Sly didn't get why that was the issue. It was lying around in the room, and he needed it really badly; it was only good to take it. And he'd done his job, if not completely. But he couldn't argue or he'd be yelled at some more, so he just said "[I'm sooorryyy]" again.  
"[So you bloody should be.]"  
  
"[...Hey. At least the dogs didn't make you zap lightning on me all around.]"  
In reply to that, she hit her head one more time, and this one so strongly and violently that it made Sly fall off the banister.


	12. Auribus Teneo Lupum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter theme** :  revelation  
>  **Soundtrack** : [You Are Dolly - CharismaticEnticer](http://youtu.be/LvVBIsvKCoI)*
> 
> * = Since this song is a 'fandom lyrics on an existing tune' one and I'm too cowardly to get SoundCloud lest copyright infringement charges, I am forced to host it privately on YouTube. For comparatively best results, open the link provided above and pause in another window, wait until you get to the part where Dolly has just said she doesn't 'want to be Dolly', press play on the song and let it go all the way through, then resume reading.
> 
>  **Alternatively,** if filks aren't your thing, you can use '[Breaking Down - Florence and the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dx0IMHco81I)' as an alternate song for this chapter.

"Okay, let's tak' thes conversation frae th' top. An' try nae to look at th' wall so much thes time."  
Dub cast his gaze directly to her instead. "'kay, ready."  
  
"Sae, fur whatever reason, ye decide ye want t' hauld someone's hand. Whit do ye say?"  
"Ich..." He briefly scrunched his face up in thought. " _Ich möchte deine Hand halten._ "  
"An' whit happens if Ah lit ye?"  
"Well, you won't, since it's not you I--"  
"Dub, ye ken damn well whit I mean," she sighed.  
"... _Danke. Es fühlt sich gut_?"  
  
Yes, that sounded more authentic. "Weel dain, yoo're gettin' th' hang ay it."  
"At bloody last.  _Fühlt_ 's been more trouble than it's worth."  
  
And it most certainly had, but she couldn't complain. So far, the brunt of this lesson with Dub had actually been the only thing it had been worth getting up for. As far as days went, Dolly hadn't been having a great one, even before she was sure it  **was**  a new day.  
  
The after-effects of their botched smokescreen mission lingered long after it was finished; as a result, her sleep had been on-off at best. The biting kicking plastic dogs, ones that hadn't been there before, had gone straight for her, and their tiny teeth, bringing up static in her head and body, ridding her of breath... Even now, she shook off the thought.  
When she eventually did manage to greet the morning, melting shards of ice were at her feet and her head was split from her attempts at ridding the whole incident from her mind. She'd wanted a fresh slate, not a stale hangover.  
The air was tense around the place, almost everyone was on edge, and it all sounded way too loud to function. The snake had asked for breakfast again, chocolate for some bizarre reason; she'd refused, and his "rattle tail" went into hysterics in the kitchen.  
Everyone was cold too. The past two days had been rather average, temperature wise, but a combination of the chill beyond the walls, the ice she'd put on the carpet last afternoon and the lack of a working central heating system (besides Dolly) made everyone shiver at some point. The clouds outside rumbled with the threat of an oncoming storm, of snow if they were lucky, and that didn't help the atmosphere one bit. Worse, they could do very little to stave off the frosty weather: thanks to the previous screw up, they had to lay low for a day or two, so no trips into warmer spots for them.  
  
That did mean, however, that she could half-rope Lilo in to teach Dub some more German, in a cozy-ish corner near his drawer (after he'd hectically scribbled out the number 13 on the living room wall). They'd been doing this for about forty minutes or so, and he was doing pretty well for a newbie to the language.  
Even if the phrases he wanted to learn today were... unusual.  _I still dorn't- 'I want t' hold yer hand'? Seriously?_  
  
"Movin' oan. Yoo're holdin' a hand, daein' whatever. Whit dae ye say efter 'at?" Dolly asked, turning her attention back to her informal student.  
"Hm. Uh." He mouthed some words to himself, quietly. She thought she saw his eyes move to read the wall behind her, where Lilo had written out in full the phrases he had to learn. No one else was allowed to touch the pens, in risk of a smacked hand or another wall collision via blocks, or else she'd have done it herself.  
She quickly stepped in front of the sentence he was on, scowling. "Whit did I say? Nae cheatin'."  
"I'm not cheating! My eyes just slipped."  
An upper eyelid raised, but she said nothing.  
  
"No, I think I've got it.  _Ich möchte_  wirklich  _mit_ \--"  
Oh god, that W problem again. " **V** irklich, Dub," said Dolly, irritation coming back full force and warming up the air properly. " **W** irklich isnae e'en a word."  
"Lilo wrote 'wirklich' on the wall though," Dub insisted, pointing to the word in question. And yes, "wirklich" was there in black and white, but that didn't mean anything as far as this was concerned.  
  
"Dub, I've tauld ye befair. Th' Germans dornt hae th' sam rules abit W as th' English dae," she explained for... how many times had this come up? He'd been having this trouble understanding that, in this language, most Ws were pronounced as Vs ever since they'd started the lessons.  _You think he'd get it after I yelled it intae his heed, but..._  
  
"Then why not just put it down as V to save the confusion?"  
"Coz it'd be spelt wrang!"  
"I want to speak German, I don't want to write it," came the pedanticism.  
"Look, Ah dornt like it either, but it jist doesnae work 'at way. We've bin  **ower**  thes."  
"Says she who says "over" as "ower"."  
"Leave mah accent out ay thes, ye ass!" she shouted. "Ah hae enaw trooble organizin' everythin' as it is withit ye mockin' me fur it!"  
"I'm not mocking it, I'm just--"  
  
A loud tap tap on the painted surface, courtesy of Lilo, brought a stop to their fight and flames. (Well, she assumed it was Lilo; what with the pin and her state of mind, she hadn't much had the stomach to look at him today.)  
"Okay, whatever," relented Dolly. "Let's jist skip 'at one.  _Again._  Ye said ye wanted t' learn one mair phrase?"  
Dub nodded.  
"Which one?"  
"This might sound a bit silly, but it's "I trust you"," he said. "I can get 'I' and 'you', I think, it's just trust I'm stuck on."  
"Um... aw reit? [Lilo, write down "I trust you" on the wall please,]" she asked in his vague direction.  
  
The scritch scratch of ink against wall gave Dolly the chance to really think about the words being written, underneath Dub spelling the word aloud alongside. "So it's V, E..."  
The lessons had been getting consistently more informal in topic. Phrases like 'I like this plan' were understandable. 'I'm sorry', 'I forgive you' and 'don't do that' were nigh on compulsory for Kroko and Sly. But 'I want to hold your hand'? 'I want to be with you'? And now...?  
  
"...A, U--"  
"Dub," she blurted out suddenly, "why do ye want t' learn thes?"  
  
"Well, once I've held someone's hand and been with them, course I'm gonna trust--"  
"Nae, any ay thes!" Gusts of wind backed her confusion up. "Whit use ur ye gonna gie frae it? Hoo, when fightin' Wood an' his lackeys, ur ye ever gonnae gie th' chance to hauld anyone's hand, lit aloyn 'be wi' them'?"  
He shrank back, glared at her defensively. "I never said it'd be during fighting! You never know, I could meet up with someone outside all of this. Y'know, hypothetically."  
"Again, hoo in th' hell? We only go out ay th' hoose  _to_  fight."  
"It could happen, I'm just saying."  
  
"Nae it cooldn't- why wood ye e'en date some German toy anyway?" she asked, flustered. "Ye only ken a wee bit beyond whit aam teachin' ye. An' ye blaither oan abit hoo thes Max is gonna pick ye up soon; yoo'd barely hae time to gie to ken 'er befai--"  
"Him."  
"Him 'en, but yoo'd barely gie a word in befair he cam back fur ye an' ye got awa' from haur. So really it'd be pointless, wooldnae it?"  
"I could take him with!" It was his turn to shout, apparently. "I don't think the flight would be that long, he could cope."  
  
"An' if yer precioos Max doesnae want anither toy taggin' along?"  
"I know he would if I asked him first."  
"Jist like ye know he wants to pick ye up at aw, Ah suppose."  
  
...Urk. She hadn't actually wanted to say that out loud.  
_[Dolly, that was horrible.]_  
_No it wasn't._  Dub had an owner and a home, in familiar English lands, she scrambled to rationalize. He had memories of those times. She didn't even have that much. She had room to be bitter.  
_[I don't care. You are horrible.]_  
  
Dub seemed to agree with the snarl in her head - he stood up now, daring to get closer to her in his frustration. "Don't you  **dare**  pretend you know Max like I do, Dolly! He's coming back for me, and he loves company, he'd find room for two of us! And even if he couldn't, I'm pretty sure Wood would understand and find a--"  
  
He cut himself off with a start, no talking, eyes wide. But if he was trying to cover up his confession, it was already too late. A red haze had swarmed over her vision and mood the second she put two and two together, and the cold air burned away as she caught on fire again.  
The bad day had just gotten about seven times worse, and all grudges more justified.  
  
"...Shit," said Dub through the hands over his mouth.  
  
"Dub, please tell me Ah heard 'at wrang. Please tell me ye dornt want tae hauld hans wi'  _Dr freaking Wood_."  
"I- uh- bah-"  
"Ah dornt hear any denial," Dolly growled. "Ur corrections. Ur anythin'."  
"Iggl-fi..." Dub stumbled over a blurt's worth of words, then dropped his gloves and gave up. "Double shit."  
  
"YOO'RE DAMN REIT IT'S DOUBLE SHIT!"  
With a loud crash, her back legs kicked out as her fury jolted through them, and they smacked into the wall with a thud, making the drawers shudder. Padding beyond the raging embers told her Lilo was fleeing the scene. Good, he didn't need to see this.  
  
"Dub, ye freakin' - Ah cannae - ye  **dumbass**! Hoo long has thes bin gonnae oan?"  
"Sorry."  
"Ah dornt want sorries, Ah want answers," she said, only a smidgen more controlled.  
"Um. A few days? Three, maybe four? We haven't done anything big yet," he was quick to clarify (oh  _now_  he was). "Just met up outside, what, once. It's still early days, I think."  
  
"Ye mit up with-? An' when yoo-?" She gasped as an awful lot of things suddenly began to make sense. "Yoo're honestly tellin' me ye only learned German tae impress 'at asshole?!"  
"Uh, no, I told you th-"  
"It's true, though, isnae it?"  
"No! I learned it to keep in the group too."  
" **An'**  to impress him."  
"Eh, that's like 10% of it," he finally admitted, and even then he sounded shifty.  
  
"I-- Dub, ye are possibly th' biggest  **idiot**  I've ever knoon tae exist! An' that's coontin' Sly."  
"I know, I should've said something before, but I knew you were gonna react like this."  
"Nae, fur havin' thes - thes crush ur whatever oan th' asshat in th' first place!" she bit back.  
"He's really not that bad once you get to know him, Dolly. He's smart, and I find him hot, and yeah, he keeps asking me to join the other team, but--"  
  
Her head met the ground at that; the hail melted again in the fire, fortunately. "Oh god, that's e'en  _worse_. Dub, dae ye e'en remember whit ye are?"  
"Yeah, I'm a turtle."  
" _Yoo're th' secrit bloody weapon._ "  
"And having a crush on Wood is going to make me any less of a secret weapon?"  
"Goddammit yes it is ye dense--!"  
  
She had to make a serious effort not to become a living volcano right there; it took three calming breaths to get to that.  
"As much as Ah hate t' gie Sly any credit fur his little cock-up lest nicht, Kroko hud a point. He  _did_  fin' 'at Wood takes th' things belongin' tae his lackeys awa'," she tried to say as steadily as possible. "Ye gie yer powers through yer timer. An item. If Wood wants ye on his team, he'll gie th' timer a once-ower an' ask ye tae use it, 'en he'll discower whit it does an' tak' it awa' frae ye an' 'en we're aw screwed, arenae we?!"  
"I'm not going to join him. I told you. Or rather, I  _was_  telling you before you interrup-"  
  
"'at doesnae make ye any less at risk haur!" she yelled, proving his point. "If anythin' it makes it worse!"  
"You saying you  **want**  me to join him?"  
"Dornt be a smart alec. Aam sayin' 'at if Wood finds oot whit ye dae, he can use it against ye. Remember whit happened t' Kroko? We ne'er saw a hin' ay it! He cood do 'at t' ye an' 'en that'd be ye oot ay th' picture, on his side ur nae! An' withit a full team, it'll be heem kickin' uir asses aw ower again!" she finished.  
Some more panting. Some more self-soothing. The orange and the red flickered, squashed, got smaller. Still there, and the ground wasn't exactly stable, but at least now it was warm.  
  
"...You calm yet?"  
"Ngh."  
"Okay." Dub took a breath of his own. "Wood is not going to take my timer. He doesn't even know I still have it. He thinks I can just run really fast. Even if he knew I had it, I wouldn't give it up for anything, with or without the time stop thing. I wouldn't give something from Max away so easily."  
_Again wi' 'at Max,_  she thought, but still listened.  
"I haven't said anything to him - Wood, that is - about what I can do before I got the crush on him or since. I'm sorry I had to keep it from you, but now it's out in the open. So we don't have to hide things from each other anymore. ...God," he laughed mostly to himself, "I'm starting to sound like Spieler. Anyway, I'm still gonna be a secret weapon for you guys. I'll just be a secret weapon with a crush, that's all. Any better?"  
  
"Nae. But Ah dornt really hae much choice haur, do I?" she said sardonically.  
"Okay. Good."  
"Okay. We shood probably stop th' lessons fur noo. Ye... can go back an' revise th' phrases yerself later."  
"Thanks, Dolly." Dub smiled, but she couldn't return it.  
  
She tried to take a step to the side to go, but the pyre still stung her feet.  
"An' ye absolutely promise nae to tell Wood anythin' abit yer hin'?" she demanded.  
"I haven't told him anything so far."  
"But do ye promise?"  
"I-"  
" _Promise me_ , Dub."  
  
"...As long as I put myself, or you guys, at risk by doing so, I won't tell him," said Dub. That was clearly the best she was going to get out of him, so she walked away and let it drop.  
  
But not all was settled. A low guttural growling had started in the base of her skull, and she could feel the pulley near her neck quivering.  
  
\---------------  
  
Things got worse as the day wore on.  
  
The weather outside teased the toys by taking the larger coldness away, though that might've just been her, then really screwed them over by starting off that storm that had been threatening to break in for a while. The water trickled in streaks down the windows and tinted the skies horribly dark, and it all made what was already a scared Kroko even worse. He'd tried to play his flute over the pattering, but his claws soon slipped too much to make it sound good, so he went back to his default method of calming down.  
"[Kroko, it's okay,]" she tried to tell him when he pulled the blanket particularly hard over him. "[The rain's outside, it's not in here.]"  
"[I can hear it though,]" his trembling voice floated out. "[I can hear it and it's loud and I don't want to hear it. Dolly, make it stop.]"  
  
She scuffed at the ground, constantly telling herself that no, adding water of her own would not help, even if it did put out the fire. "[I can't do that, Kroko, you know that.]"  
"[You can make it rain in here so you can make it stop raining out there, so make it stop please.]"  
"[I can't!]"  
"[Please make it  _stop_!]" he squealed. "[Please make it stop please make it stop it's cold and wet and I'm scared!]"  
  
The waver at the end of his sentence as he curled up even tighter in the pillow made Dolly want to go and give him a hug to calm him down. And, to be honest, she needed a hug herself. But what would be the use? She was still nursing the heat, she was trying hard not to rain, and either way it would get Kroko hurt or even more distressed. He didn't need that right now.  
And she didn't need spots of white light in front of her eyes, for that matter. She shook her head to send them away.  _Where are ye e'en coming from? Gie off._  
  
_[The better question is, if you can't do anything to help, why are you still leader?]_  the thunder inside her brain asked, over the one already there.  _[Why are you so useless? Why are you so pathetic?]_  
  
She was going to tell that to get off too, where it could stick its hate, when a loud rattling sound as close to her as it could be blocked it out for her. Both a good and bad thing, in this case, because it meant - "[Sly, I've told you not to shake that thing right in our ears!]"  
Sly looked at her as if she was speaking her native tongue again. "[But I'm making shake noises with it, and Lilo's gone vanished.]"  
"[Yes, but not in my ears. You could hurt someone's hearing with that. Not to mention my head, and my headache's bad enough without it.]" It'd damage his tail some, too, if he'd stuck it in the flames, though she didn't want to let  _him_  in on that detail if she didn't have to.  
  
"[Does that mean I can ear it in Dub's shakes?]"  
"[Dammit, Sly,  **no--** ]" But true to form, even before she'd finished talking he'd gone off to 'ear it in Dub's shakes' anyway. Her temples throbbed in his wake.  
  
Kroko whimpering brought her back to her surroundings. "[Now it's raining and everyone is fighting too, this is bad...]"  
"[Oh no, Kroko, we're not fighting,]" she said in an attempt to calm him down again. "[It's just been a long morni--]"  
  
"OW!" The new exclamation came from the kitchen, followed by the calling of an irritated Dub. "Sly,  _tun Sie das nicht_! Dolly, I thought you told him not to shake that--?"  
"Ah  **did**  tell 'im! [Sly, can't you listen to me for one bloody minute?]"  
  
"[See? You're fighting now because you're yelling and swearing,]" the being under the blanket said sadly, and Sly was trying to say something too and the gnarl was getting louder and louder,  _[you can't control this, you can't control this...]_  
It wasn't long until, with a short screech of frustration, she found herself in the hallway far out of the reach of all the noise. Unsurprisingly, that didn't make the pounding go away.  
_[Why should it? You deserve the pain, remember?]_  
  
_Ye ken what? Fine. Ah deserve th' pain. I'll gie more pain if it'll make ye happy!_  
  
She moved to the open door of the cupboard under the stairs, poked her head through, and there was Lilo, rubbing the wrong ends of his blocks together as usual. She had to force herself to focus on it, but the safety pin definitely still rested in his mouth, at the shaky end of the zip. Good thing she wouldn't have to 'see' it in a minute.  
  
"[You okay in here, Lilo?]" she said, with a fake sweetness.  
He nodded.  
"[Good. I was worried you'd still be stressed, what with the...]" She couldn't look at it anymore, so she just indicated it. "[That thing with the mouth, you know.]"  
This time he shook his head.  
"[So, I was wondering. If you think your mouth will be okay without that pin in there, do you think I could maybe possibly just borrow it for a little while?]"  
  
Lilo immediately let go of the blocks and covered it up with both hands. That was a no.  
"[Please, Lilo? I just need to shut up something in here,]" she said as she tapped where she guessed her heart was a few times, just under the still-wobbly pulley, "[then I'll give it right--]"  
The answer was still no.  
"[Oh come on!]" she cried, all pretense dropped. "[I've allowed you to keep that in you for this long, I think you can afford to let me have it for a bit!]"  
He turned away, clearly firm on the matter, and returned to the blocks.  
"[Okay, okay, keep it, see if I care!]"  
  
Back out in the hall, and with no pin in body, the next best course of action was to return to the task of last night. If she couldn't stab herself with a sharp object, she could at least make the headache so big it practically consumed her. Then that sadistic growling would stop, surely!  
Bam. Bash. Smash. With every beat of her stupid head against the wall, she became more cracked inside and out. It was like a fissure, running all the way through her, through the day. One more jolt and it would be fit to burst.  
And if it did, she didn't know what would happen. Would she get into another fight she wouldn't remember afterwards? Would it be like the abandonment in kindergarten? Would she not be their friend anymore?  _God no nae again ne'er again..._  
  
She didn't want to burst. She hated being this angry, and that just made her angrier and more hateful. She'd been so mad at everything lately. She was on fire a lot. The others were blase about it. People were blase at her being  **on fire** ; that was never a good thing.  
_[It's because you're a failure. In every sense.]_  
Thud.  _[You're a failure at controlling your moods.]_  
Thud.  _[You're a failure as a leader.]_  
Thud.  _I'm a failure as a sheep._  
  
"[Why are you running into the head again?]"  
Sly was in the doorway now, no, everyone was. Even the hippo was out on her other side. They must have heard their sham of a leader having a nervous breakdown right there by the stairs.  
"[Because today is being horrible.]" Another crash on the hard surface. "[And I don't know how to fix it.]"  
  
"[We could fix it to go fight Dr Wood.]"  
"[What?!]" She stopped, turned on the snake. "[No, you're missing the - We have to  **hide**  from Wood for a day or two! Because of your mistake! Why would we go fight him again in this state?!]"  
"[I don't know. Because I'm all static again. I have to get the static out and energies.]"  
  
Bursting was somewhat more... stable than she'd expected. The fire didn't get any hotter. The growling didn't get any louder. No steam, no incoherent frothing at the mouth. Something just clicked in her, deep down and out, something that made the world still. Still enough to hear her speak evenly.  
  
"[How is that my fucking problem?]"  
  
Sly flinched. She thought they all did.  
"[Answer me. Come on, someone answer me. How is any of this my problem? How is being restless, being scared of a drop of water, how are shaking mouths, languages, any of it - how is it  **my**  problem?]"  
"[B-because you're--]"  
"[And if anybody even  **thinks**  to tell me that it's because I'm leader, I'm going to remove their tail and sew it back onto their goddamn eye.]"  
In the back of the crowd, she saw Kroko cover his face with the blanket.  
  
"[I didn't even want to be leader in the first place, you know. No, what am I saying, you don't know. You never listened to me saying I didn't want it. You just put me here based on something I can't remember doing! You'd think logically if I can't remember doing it, that would make me a bad leader because I don't remember the most clever bit of me, but none of you do logic, do you? You're too busy calling me over to sort out every little problem you have without understanding that, hey, sometimes, I have my own shit to deal with!]"  
The hall floated on tenterhooks around her, but she didn't feel dizzy. The inferno and rant spread through her, yet she didn't burn.  
"[I can't help everyone, whether I want to or not! I can't sort all the problems! I make things spit fire when I'm mad, I can't control the] bloody [weather! I can't magically stamp my hooves and make it all better!] Ah cannae suddenly make a' fowk spick th' sam language! [I can't handle it when Wood throws shit like tiny dogs at us!] Dugs-- lightnin' -- [rattles -- I'm not equipped for this!]  **Aam jist a sheep!**  [A stupid] glaikit [hurting sheep, but still a sheep, and] Ah dornt want--" Her languages were getting mixed up, the roar was reaching its crescendo. "[I don't want growls in my head, I don't want powers, I don't want fire, I don't want Wood!] I jist, [I just want to get away from my own damn problems first for a change!] Stop tryin' to, [I'm just going to,] cannae ye lae me aloyn?! Dornt ye gie it? [None of you get it? I'm trapped here and] Ah cannae be trapped [and  **I'm just so sick of it in my own head I'm going to scream!!** ]"  
  
As Dolly kept up her tirade, the shaking of her own zip became fiercer until it was vibrating at top speed. Something rustled deep inside her, her anger given form perhaps, ready to tear its way out, rip its way through her body, destroy everything. Some were looking at it, but they weren't pointing it out, they shouldn't, this was her time to talk.  
"[I just want to get this day over with, I want to get better,] Ah wanna go home, Ah dornt want t' be off kilter anymair, Ah wanna forgit [I want to forget about all this,] Ah dornt want to be Dolly!  _Ah dornt want to be **Dolly**!_ "  
  
And then it all stopped.  
The headache stopped, the blaze stopped, the exploding and rising and wanting stopped.  
In its stead, the sound of a zip unlocking itself, much like Lilo's, but coming from her. Her insides getting lighter as something squirmed out.  
A very large something, making her whole body quake.  
  
A very large... fluffy...  
...tail-wagging... something.  
  
And it was out. A body, another toy.  
  
Two different shades of brown. Two white teeth, sharp. Yellow eyes. A long muzzle. Paws, claws, also pointy. Tail, wagging, around and around and over. A slightly sleepy look.  
"[What? Why aren't I- what?]" It could talk. It could look, it looked at her. It was looking right at her.  
It was attached to her, at the middle. It had come out of her.  
  
It was a monster.  
A definite monster, in the form of her worst nightmare, from out of her stomach.  
  
She, and lightning, screamed.  
  
" _OH GOD WHAT THE HELL?!_ "  
She tried to run away from it, scooting herself backwards, but she just ran into the opposite wall and the beast came with her.  
"[Uh-]"  
  
"WHAT TH' SHIT WHAT TH' SHIT WHAT TH' SHIT?!"  
She tried to shake it off, flailing around in a panicked electric blur so she didn't see it. When she stopped to see if it was gone, it was at the tail end of flailing too.  
  
"[Okay, that's done, now what's goi--]" said the monster when it got done. She didn't let it finish, hitting it hard and constantly on the nose in a last ditch attempt to " _gie it off gie it off gie it off gie it off gie it off!_ "  
"[I can't-- ow- it's hard to get off when you're-- ow - hitting me on the nose,]" it tried to point out, but she kept going.  
  
Dolly stopped when the creature managed to pin her hooves down with a snap. Christ, those claws were sharp, digging in, she could feel more jolts come out of her just feeling those dangerous paws,  _what th' hell what th' hell,_  but she couldn't do a damn thing about it.  
"[So, you done trying to kill me before I even get myself together?]" it asked again. Then, "[Hey, good, I've got my normal voice back.]"  
  
"Normal-- voice? Whit? I? WHAT ARE YE?!" she spluttered, trying hard (and failing for the most part) not to hyperventilate. " **Who**  are ye?! Why did ye come out of mah - What?!"  
"[I'm as lost as you are, bub.]" It sounded it too, but the low lidded staring yellow eyes never changed, looking right into her, arms shaking underneath the pressure. "[I mean, I know you're clearly a sheep, I'm clearly a--]"  
"Dornt play min' games wi' me, whatever ye ur!! Answer th' soddin' question!"  
"[Can't. I've never seen you before either. I don't tend to see much of anything, though, so you know.]"  
"But-I-- how--"  
  
"[Dolly?]" someone asked from far far back. Kroko, she guessed, but was it really, or was he hiding a monster in his body too? "[W-why is there a wolf there?]"  
"[I don't know!]" Dolly snapped at him in her fear. "[That's what I'm trying to find out!]"  
  
The creature turned from her now, removing its paw (thank god), to check out the source. "[Wait, I think I know that voice. Think I know those faces too; wasn't I lea--]"  
"Ye leave Kroko out ay thes!!" she said before she could remember what a bad bloody idea that was.  
"[For Christ- Will you stop speaking that weird English? You're starting to freak me out.]"  
" _You're_  freakin' oot--  **You're**  freaking--  **I'm**  th' one wi' th' monster in mah stomach!!" She tried to shove it back off, it reached to pin her legs down again, but she wove them away, more pinning wouldn't help here.  
  
A crunch.  
The extended paw had just embedded itself right into the freaking wall, and she was suddenly very grateful she'd dodged when she had.  
  
"[Wow,]" she thought she heard Sly say as it pulled the claws out of the dent and flexed them.  
"[Wow's right. Don't remember doing that last time.]"  
" _THAUR WAS A **LAST TIME**?!_ "  
"[What, is this place made of balsa wood?]" it continued in its bemused tone, ignoring her completely. "[I just ripped through it like it's a fake ferret.]"  
  
It made a noise somewhere between laughing and trailing off, but she was too hung up on the last words to be frightened further by it. "[...fake...?]"  
Fake ferret? Normal voice? Last time?  
  
"Ye... whatever ye ur. Monster. Whit did ye see in, uh, "last time"?" she asked shakily. She had a theory.  
"[Gimme a chance to get down what I'm seeing  _this_  time first, will ya? Besides, you'll hit me on the nose again if I tell.]"  
"Aye, but I'll hit ye e'en harder on th' nose if ye dornt." (...Well, what whatever that was didn't know wouldn't hurt it, or her.)  
"[All right, all right, gimme a minute.]" It took a hummingbird thrum or two on her end before it spoke again. "[Definitely not this place. Mostly roads, sky, a dump at the end. A raven we had to fight - that was great, I got to be leader, hit a few authority guys. My paws caught on fire a lot, something to do with superpowers, I think he said. Why'd you ask, anyway?]"  
  
The puzzle pieces, like blocks, fell into their places.  
  
"I- ye son of a bitch!"  
"[Oh come on, what'd I do now?]"  
"Ye took ower mah min', is whit ye did!" Dolly raged. "Ah was walkin' alang an' ye suddenly took ower mah min' an' becam me an' -"  
Shock after shock.  
"Oh god! Yoo've bin daein' 'at aw mah life, huvnae ye?!"  _E'en in kindergarten!_  "Yoo keep removin' large chunks ay mah life, an' 'en, 'en - " One more thing seemingly fit. "An' 'en ye whisper gantin' things t' me when yoo git back in! Yoo're th' dog snarl echo!!"  
  
"[ **Whoa**  whoa whoa whoa whoa slow down. Dog snarl-? I told you, I've never seen or heard you before in my life.]"  
Oh. That deflated her somewhat.  
"[All I know is, I just come out sometimes, when the coast is clear or I get pissed off. Sometimes I sound like me, sometimes I get that thick as porridge voice of yours. There's just darkness rest of the time. If anything,]" the monster accused, "[ _you've_  been stealing chunks of  _my_  life. That's why I don't know who you are, why I'm hot shot one minute and getting near killed for my troubles the next.]"  
"Dornt ye turn thes aroond oan me!!"  
  
"[Why is everyone shouting again?!]" Yup, that was Kroko. With all the chaos, she kept forgetting everyone else was here to see this. "[What's going on?!]"  
She tried once again to sound more calm and ready than she was. "[What's going on, Kroko, is something came out that shouldn't be here, and I'm trying to put it back.]"  
  
"[Oh, so you do speak German. I was beginning to wonder.]"  
"Aye, Ah spick German. Ah jist kind a' forgit t' use it when soddin' great monsters come out ay mah --"  
  
"Dolly, will you stop calling it that?" came Dub's voice next (though he sounded shaken himself, so not a point in his favour). "It's clearly a wolf."  
"Ah dornt caur if it's a damn  _chookie leg_ , Dub!! Th' point is, it's scarin' me, it's in mah stomach an' Ah want it out!"  
  
"[Ze.]"  
  
That caught her off guard. "What?"  
"[Not gonna lie, not sure of a lotta stuff right now, but one thing I know is I'm a ze,]" explained the... the wolf, if it must. "[Not that it helps me much. I'm not a he, a she, an it, a monster, a dog snarl echo, or a] chookie leg."  
  
"Okay, 'at does it. I'm tired ay ye jist throwin' thes shit at me withit me knowin' a damn hin' abit whit t' do."  
"[Hypocrisy thy name is whatever your name is. Wait, Dolly, right? Think he said your name--]"  
"I ken my name!!  _Who? Are? **You?**_ " Her hoof went down to the floor with every emphasis. "Dae ye e'en hae a name? Or dornt ye know 'at either?"  
"[No, I got a name. I... think.]" It went into thought for a while, which gave Dolly's brain time to barely get into the same vicinity as re-adjustment. Everything looked the same, bar the wreckage of the surface behind her; and yet nothing was. Deeper splinters, off-key colours, odd sensations.  
Reality had inverted on itself, and there was no returning it.  
  
"[I remember someone calling me Lyall once,]" it said at last. "[Or, no. Folk've called me Dolly more, but I don't know what's up with that since, well, it looks like that's you, Doll. Oh, can I call you Doll?]"  
"No."  
"[I think Lyall sounds better anyway. Got more snap to it. So okay. So far, we kinda know that I'm Lyall, I'm a ze, I'm a wolf.]" It too turned to the near-hole in the wall. "[And apparently I'm now super strong.]"  
  
"[Not just!]" Sly said suddenly. "[Guys, look at Lilo!]"  
Somehow in the confusion, Lilo had snuck out, and now he was doing some more writing in the living room. Everyone else scampered over to take another look at it - if Lilo was writing again, this had to be important - except Dolly and her unwanted stowaway, who literally couldn't.  
  
"[Hey, wait up!]" called the wolf after them, waving its hind legs uselessly. ...Then, stopping, "[Uh, Doll, how do I walk like this?]"  
"Shoold've thooght ay 'at befair livin' in mah stomach, shooldnae ye?"  
  
By the time they'd gotten there by settling on pushing each other along the ground, Lilo was already finished, tapping his pen on the right spot for attention. (At least the sight of the pin had become, in light of everything, a small potato.) On the previously blank spot closest to the front corner was a mock-up of Dolly - previous perception - and the wolf, the mind-numbing new one. A zip ran between them, and Dr Wood to the far right.  
  
The two looked it over with the others, Sly rattling his tail every so often.  
"[I don't get it. I thought I beat that Wood or whoever already. Why is he on the wall?]"  
"Dornt interrupt me, wolf."  
"[My name is Lyall, told you that.]"  
"Dornt remin' me ye hae a name either. It makes it harder t' forgit all abit ye an' pretend thes ne'er happened."  
"[You can't forget me! I only just got here!]"  
"Aye I can, if ye shut up."  
  
A pause, then a wiggling sensation on both sides, making her feel woozy. "'at's nae helpin'."  
Some hard tugs in their stead.  
"Dammit, 'at hurts! Gie off mah ears!"  
"[I'm bored waiting.]"  
  
Unfortunately, getting through that to decode the idea made it clear forgetting wasn't an option. "[Okay, Lilo. Please tell me I'm wrong on this, but are you saying the mons--]" She had to choke out a correction when it poked her. "[L-Lyall, urgh, can actually be part of the team? Like, in fighting?]" she asked in increasing dread.  
"[Funny, thought I was already leader of this whole shebang,]" it snarked, "[but hey, as long as the rest of my life's a sham...]"  
He nodded before she could correct it, indicating the zip.  
  
"[What, because it - ze - is in my stomach? It can-?]"  
A quick change, the addition of an exclamation mark over the bird's head.  
  
"[Ah, I get it.]" Ze nodded, and the tail started to wag harder. "[I'm a surprise attacker now. Jump on him when he leasts expects it, and he and his three lackeys will--]"  
Lilo wrote something this time.  
"[Wait, there's twenty one? Holy crap, Woodster's been busy.]"  
More writing; it was like he just remembered he could. [WOLF = WEATHER IMMUNITY TOO.] It made her think. She hadn't been aware of the weather, what with the bloody great wolf and all, but it'd probably been wreaking havoc all over the place. Now that she was focusing on it, her static burned her skin.  
Yet, true to the words, the wolf remained unaffected by it, even when ze stuck zer paw right inside the stuff. "[Sweet, I've got that too? Kick-ass! I'm starting to like your savvy, hippo.]"  
  
[WOLF = SECRET WEAPON?]  
"Nae! Ah am nae makin' thes hin' in mah stomach the bludy secrit weapon!" She had to object to this herself, briefly forgetting the hippo didn't know English.  
"Wait, that's what that means?" Dub butted in. "Lilo, what the hell?  **I'm**  the weapon here! Dolly said herself!"  
  
"[Oh yeah, the turtle. Let me see if I can do it now...] Testing. One two, check." Oh great, suddenly ze spoke it too. That was perfect, that was just dandy. "Hey, turtle, you understand me now, right?"  
"Yeah, I can, so maybe you can tell me why you're stealing my spot."  
"What? Dub, I jist--"  
  
The pen tapped on the wall; he'd managed to pick up on their rejections. [X2. TWO ADVANTAGES.]  
"Dude, chillax. Look, it looks like we're both secrets."  
"Huh, that's all right then. As long as we're  **both**  secrets." She couldn't even tell if he was being sarcastic or not, and frankly she didn't want to know.  
"Hey, to be fair, I'm still not even sure what you do, so technically I count as both for now."  
  
" _Am Ah jist th' only one freakin' out abit th' wolf monster in mah goddamn stomach?!_ "  
The outburst of words from Dolly even took her by surprise, but this - their apathy, the whole casualness - was starting to be a legitimate concern. "Does-- [Doesn't anyone else have a problem with this wolf right here? Besides the turtle who will bitch about anything?]"  
Everyone glanced at each other, but nothing.  
"[ **Anyone?!** ]"  
  
"[...I have a problem,]" Sly said through the resulting silence.  
"[Good! At last! The snake is speaking sense!]"  
"[The problem, I don't understand what a ze is. Being a Ma'am Sir I get, but how can you not be a he or a she? You've got to be either one or two.]"  
  
Any explanation of gender identities of monster wolves was missed, since Dolly was too busy trying to suppress more loud exasperated noises. That didn't work so well.  
  
"[So] zim [isn't good right?]" he was asking when she gave up on that distraction, and oh god ze was still talking!  
"[No no, snake boy. Zer. Zeh, er.]"  
"[Yes, that's it. Ze-sir.]"  
"[That'll do. Oh, you decided to join us again, Doll?]"  
  
She had to slap herself to stop any more bouts of infuriation. If she kept losing her cool like this, she'd never get this thing out. "Look. Wol-- Lyall. Ah dornt caur if everyone's okay wi' ye bein' part ay th' team ur nae. I've got th' final say on thes, an' Ah want ye out."  
"[Aw, you don't like little old me?]" If ze was hurt by this, ze was doing a very good job at hiding it.  
"Aam sorry, but ye jist come reit outta nowhaur when I'm at th' most pissed off I've ever bin, ay coorse I'm nae jist gonna adjust t' ye reit awa'! Besides, yoo're... a wolf. Aam nae good wi' wolves. Ur dogs. Yoo're makin' me edgy, as ye can probably see. Sae go on. Go away."  
  
"[All righty. You got a stitch unpicker?]"  
"No. Why wood ye need a stitch unpicker?"  
"[You keep saying I came out of your stomach,]" ze said, running a hand over the seam where the two met.  _Ewww, creepy creepy._  "[That kind of means I can't... leave your stomach. So until you get a stitch unpicker, you're all stuck with me.]"  
  
So... Ze was never going to go away. She wished Spieler was here to help her come to grips with all this, but she wasn't, so she had to make the best of it.  
"Fine, if ye cannae go ye cannae go. But can ye jist - go back t' sleep, ur whatever ye waur doin' befair Ah woke ye up?"  
"[And miss training my super strength?]"  
"Oh come the-- today was awful e'en befair ye cam alang, okay?" Dolly begged. "Ah huvnae gotten 'at radge in ages, an' if ye stick aroond now aam gonnae jist gie madder an' madder until Ah hurt somethin', an' 'at will completely ruin it. Besides, it's bin a hectic few minutes, Ah need time to digest it aw, an' yoo're nae helpin'. Please,  **please**  go whaur I cannae see ye. Please."  
  
"[...Okay, okay. I'll go,]" ze said. "[I need to think about a few things myself. But when I come back out, it'd better not be like a week later again and in a different spot. I got whiplash back there.]"  
"Will ye jist go already?"  
  
And with a slither and a zipping up, the monster - wolf - Lyall - was gone.  
  
Dolly pressed herself flat onto the carpet as soon and as hard as she could, to make sure the thing kept its word.  
_[Well, you handled that about as poorly as you handle everything else.]_  
She also ignored the growl that had resumed itself. (Well, not quite; she did mentally reply  _Yoo're nae makin' a good case haur, wolf._ ) She had some thinking to do.  
  
Now that she wasn't (as) scared stiff by the idea, she could wrap her head around it. A wolf in her stomach.  
  
The thing that looked like the very animal that haunted her so, squirming and living and breathing in her body. She shivered again.  
The thing that bore the brunt of her anger, made gaps in her memory... things people said, things they did, were adding up when they hadn't for so long. She couldn't deny that.  
The thing that had more brute force than any of them put together, except possibly Lilo. A new secret weapon to mix into their arsenal. A new advantage...  
"Well, th' team coods use a wee bit ay muscle..."  
  
Okay, saying the prospect frightened her was putting it mildly. It bloody petrified her!  
But almost everyone was fine with zer, even if she wasn't. And if she was going to be leader, she had to do what was best for the group. Even if it meant getting hurt herself.  
That was how it worked, right?  
  
"[Um, Dolly?]"  
"[Y-yeah, Kroko?]" she said absently.  
"[I'm really really confused. What's happening?]"  
"...  _Oh shit, hoo do Ah explain this...?_ "  
  
\---------------  
  
The sky was dark, as was the house, and it was bedtime. Everyone was asleep again.  
No, not true. She wasn't - too busy trying to get comfy in the cabinet. Every time she shifted, she could feel it - zer - in there. Not so much now ze was back inside, but just... little things. Prickles. Barbed wires.  
  
Kroko wasn't asleep either. He'd had to accept a condensed version of it all, or else she'd've been there forever. At least he was okay with being back on the windowsill now the rain outside had stopped.  
  
"[Hey. Are you awake?]" he called weakly in the darkness towards her.  
"[Sort of.]"  
"[Good. You looked really scared back there.]"  
"[I was.]"  
"[We both got scared, and it made me think: is it going to be okay?]"  
"[I honestly don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. We'll have to see. Goodnight.]"  
  
"[...Be-because I think Lyall might make you--]"  
She rolled over, away from him. "[I don't want to talk about Lyall anymore. I've told you that.]"  
"[Sorry. I'm just really worried about you.]"  
"[I'll be fine if you shut up about Lyall.]"  
  
"[...I'm sorry I asked you to stop the rain too.]"  
She thought she should have been annoyed at the apologies, but the way he said it, that crushing guilt for something so trivial when put next to everything else, just made something (or someone) in her flit. So she just said, "[We can't go to sleep if you keep talking to me, Kroko.]"  
"[Sorry.]"  
  
She fell asleep in the end, but only after recalling something from kindergarten, the incident that had put her in the asylum, with a dreadful new clarity. That affected her dreams.  
The forest was darker now. The grassy field was littered with bones, not just dog bones, but whole skeletons. Those of her selves. Those of her team. Those of the ones she hurt. Words from the last floated around, mocking her with the past.  
_"[You hurt everyone.]" "[You're not my friend anymore, Dolly.]" "[I hate you, Dolly.]"_  
The Dub skeleton creaked around in the wind, aging, becoming a faded fossil. The Kroko one washed away in a sudden flood.  
  
And intercut between it all, she lived her worst moments again, trying to intervene but never getting through, faced with the things she wished she... they... had never done or said.

 


	13. Cor Aut Mors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  This chapter has a severe warning stamp. **This, and any future uses of it within this fanfiction, means that the content can be triggering to the point of an adverse physical and/or emotional reaction to several, if not all, of my readers** (AKA: was triggering to the author during writing). In this instance, the warning is for disturbing imagery, specifically invoking: sensory (including oxygen) deprivation, hand mutilation, choking, abandonment, self-hatred. Read at your own risk.
> 
> Despite this, description-wise, out of all the chapters I've written, this one might be my so far favourite. You'll see why when you get there.
> 
>  **Chapter theme** :  sense  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaKr98ktoxU)
> 
> ETA 08/11/2014: I got fan art!! *squeals into the distance* Tumblr user and fic fan groccio was kind enough to draw The Scene for me cus he's _amazing_ , and I asked him permission to put it here and here it is! [The link to it is here](http://groccio.tumblr.com/post/102124626561/uh-i-tried-karaita-almost-made-myself-cry-in), but the picture itself is also inserted in the body of the chapter below.

Conditions were great for running today. The sun was out, but covered by clouds, and not so bright as to get in his eyes and stop him seeing where he was going. There was a brisk wind to keep him moving, though that could have been something else equally cold. There weren't as many puddles as he'd been expecting, since they'd mostly dried up, and what few remained were avoidable, or at least good hurdling practice. And it was a route he'd only done twice before, so it was both a challenge and a familiarity.  
One against himself, more than anything. He wasn't racing anyone in particular, though certain thoughts dogged him all the way there.

 _What are you running away from, Dub?_  
Nothing at all. He was going **to**  something, not from it. Just as a bit of variation. He moved across the pavement to avoid someone bearing down on him in a wheelchair.  
_Wood's not going to want to see you._  
He didn't care. Dub wanted to see him. He needed to, after yesterday.

 _You're jealous,_  his brain taunted him.  
_No! No, I'm not jealous._  Anyone winning a gold medal still won it for the team. Max practically drilled it into their heads all the time. Why would he be jealous?  
_Because you're not the only secret weapon anymore._  
Why would that be bad? That was a good thing, he'd told himself shortly after then, and all through the night, and now. Especially if the extra secret could hide even better than he could, for longer than thirty seconds at a time, and demo strength that would make their resident cable tosser green with--  
Okay, he was a little jealous. But it would aid him in the long run. Now that there were two surprises, the loss of one wouldn't be such a big deal.

 _Not that you're going over there to tell him about the timer. Right?_  
Dub paused at a puddle's edge, estimated the size, and narrowly managed to leap over it after a good run up. Realistically, he should have been using the function right now, but it didn't do to completely tire him out before he even got there, and with the thing's habit of sapping energy...

_Ahem. Right?_

No, of course he wasn't. He wouldn't. Not as long as it hurt anyone to do it.  
He wanted to see Wood, that was all.

His thoughts tried to guilt-trip him now. _Dub, turn around and go back. You made a promise to Dolly. You can't keep lying to her._  
He hadn't lied - all he'd told her was he wanted to go on a run to get some fresh air in his system. He hadn't said where.  
_That's a lie on top of a lie._  
Anyway, yesterday had been very horrible for all concerned. Including that weapon wolf, Lyall. (Steiff, that explained so much!) The sheep had been glad to have him out of the picture for a while, so it wasn't like she was going to wait half an hour and start panicking like when Kroko had disappeared. And he was actually going to help her, if Wood agreed to this. There'd be no training on their end and no chance for the Association to pull off an ambush without their 'fearless leader'.  
He was being pretty damn useful with this trip if he stopped to think about it.

But he didn't, couldn't, stop. He ran instead, following the roads, in and out of the buildings that they'd passed only two nights back. They looked very different during the day, and they'd cleared up that broken snowman and replaced it with a string of reindeer, but he marked his own path all the same, and he soon found himself at the front of Wood's headquarters. He hadn't even needed to follow anyone this time.  
He went up to the locked entrance, knocked on it three times. He took a breath, shifted his feet, felt his nerves flare.

_I'm just going to see Wood. That's not illegal. It's not a crime._  
_No big deal._

The door was answered by the ferret, who slammed it back in his face and presumably went off to tell Wood. 'Presumably' being the key word; he heard more "owws" and sounds of stuffing being brushed aside than actual conversation.  
Something felt off about that, but he tossed it aside. _Wood never said he could fix physical stuff. Cut him some slack._

 _Keeping that a secret too, Dub?_  whispered the conflicting part.  
_I'm already in the doghouse with her. I'm not risking it getting worse._  
_You mean you're protecting Wood._  
_I. No. Shut up._

Speaking of Wood, within the next minute, there he was, replenishing the chill within him and everywhere, in all his glory and unchanged splendor.  
Unchanged physically, anyway. Something had stiffened in the air around the place, and its ambassador especially; he cut Dub off, curtly, before he could say anything. "If you've come here to rub in that the five of you managed to sneak into this building, you had better leave before you even try lest I do something you'll regret."  
"No, I'm not here for--"  
"If you're here to apologize for aforementioned breaking and entering, be quick about it and we might go easy on you," Wood continued over him. "If you've changed your mind about joining the Association, I appreciate the attempt at reconciliation, but be warned that I no longer accept dismembered body parts as bargaining chips, pre-removed or otherwise."

Perhaps it was best for Dub **not**  to ask what the hell that meant.

"Wha-? No, no no, I'm not here for any of that," he managed to say at last.  
That stumped him. "I can't see anything else you'd show up to do. Except perhaps to commit a senseless act of violence."  
" _Definitely_  not that! I just came to visit, is all. For pleasure, you know, not business."  
Wood took what looked like an involuntary step back. "Pleasure?"

 _Yes, pleasure! How can someone so smart be so dense?!_  
What Dub actually said was, "Well, that is, if you're not busy. I was thinking we could go out and, well... _etwas tun_ , as you'd say it."

"Do something. Do what, exactly?"  
Oh. Dub cast his eyes to the other's feet in slight humiliation, consoling himself by staring at the shape of his toes. How could he get the feeling even from doing that? "Uh, not sure. I didn't think I'd--"  
"Get this far."

"No, catch you in a state where you didn't know. You probably know this place better than most of us," he explained sheepishly, looking back up, "coz you're German, and all, and you might've been here before. I don't know what there is to do, 'specially when. Well, only times we really get out are when we fight. And I don't wanna fight you, I wanna." He fidgeted with his hands to warm them up. "I wanna do something, like I said. I want to really get out and **do**  something, and I want you to be with me. So, it's like a date, sort of?"  
Wood folding his wings made him rethink what words had come out. "Like a date sort of, what am I saying? It's not 'like', it's a straight up date. I'm asking you on a date, Wood," he confirmed to both of them. "Just me and you, in Sassnitz, being together without having Dolly or the Association or anyone on our backs. To make time pass a bit faster, if nothing else. That sound good?"

The raven said nothing at all for a minute or two.  
Crap, he hoped he hadn't ballsed up. He'd never asked anyone on a date before; there'd been no one **to**  ask. No one that made the frost spread itself silly all over his insides, every molecule of his being, which was now tensing really tight in worry. Snowflake knots.  
_Don't be silly,_ one part of him yelled. _Max would never get this worked up over asking someone out._  
_Max would never ask out his enemy either,_  the other pointed out. _Max would never be that stupid._  
_But I've already done it, and I'm already worried, so that doesn't matter either way._

Not even Wood saying something at last put his fears to rest. "By "just me and you", you literally mean only the two of us?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Has someone followed you here? Is anyone likely to interrupt?"  
Dub checked behind him in case someone had magically teleported over there, but no sale. "Uh, no. Look, if you don't want to go out with me, you can say so and I'll leave." He sounded more irritated than he'd preferred. "I'd rather you be honest with me than--"

"All right."  
That blocked Dub off again, and before he could finish asking "All right what?" the door had closed.  
His heart sank. Great, now what was he supposed to do? If he'd been dumped before the outing had even begun, he couldn't jolly well stick around without looking like a creeper. But where was he to go? Could he go crawling back to Dolly right now? Or did she need some more time to cool off, adjust to Lyall?

Microseconds after he'd decided to return to base and face the music, Wood came back out, shutting the door behind him this time.  
"Where'd you go?"  
"I was arranging responsibilities with Han. He knows how to assist the new healees well enough by now that I can leave him on his own."

The organ that had fallen into his brown shoes suddenly found itself lodged in his throat. "So that's a yes to the date, then?"

"Yes." Wood gave the same secret hint of a smile as before. "I've accumulated enough spare time to have the afternoon off. Let's "do something"."

\---------------

'Something', it turned out, was walking.  
A lot of it.

That couldn't have been more perfect as far as Dub was concerned. It was something to keep him active, tax the body, but if anything Wood pointed out to him caught his eye he could focus entirely on that too... after tearing his gaze away from his date himself.  
There were a lot of things in Sassnitz he had never had the time or reason to look for. They couldn't afford to stray too far from where they started, as travelling back would be more arduous than sticking close. But even simply hearing about them was enough to keep him interested.  
And Dub had a fair few things to say about his life in England as well, if they were relevant.

First, they found themselves wandering close to the town's edge, swapping experiences about water, like that churning at the shore, rocking the boats from side to side. "I'm a pretty good swimmer, you know," Dub boasted at some point. "I mean, it's not one of my best sports, that's running, but if you chucked me in there right now I could make my way to shore, no problem." He had to stop his arms fluttering reflexively, caught in the moment.  
"Wouldn't you get waterlogged, with that shell on your back?" Wood prodded the white stripe with his wing. "I mean, the absorbency - it'd be like being tied to a rock, surely?"  
"Oi, no bashing the shell! 'sides, it's small, so it's aerodynamic. That means extra speed and extra depth. Max said so."

To prove that size had nothing to do with it (and since they were in the area), the raven led him to the HMS Otus, this submarine that had been converted into a floating museum. Or at least he said it was a submarine; "I dunno, this looks more like a boat to me." A very imposing boat, large and grey and bobbing in the salt and foam, but still a boat.  
"No, it's a submarine. _Oberon_ -class, from what I've read. Sufficient build and propulsion to go to a speed of 31 kilometers an hour while submerged," elaborated Wood. "And it went as deep as 183 metres in 1987. Despite not being 'aerodynamic' by your definition of the word."  
"Ooh, you work in the metric system! I like-y."  
"And you just missed the point entirely!" But Dub snuck inside to explore it properly before the other could press the issue.

"You ever been swimming, Wood?" the turtle asked when they were outside again, halfway up the dock.  
"No. I've intended to, once, possibly in the sea near the clinic, but it would have--"  
"Wait wait wait." He screeched to a halt. "There's a sea near the asylum?"  
His date looked at him as if he was utterly dense, making him feel it too. "Of course. The Baltic Sea, by the Königsstuhl chalk cliffs. They're why the Jasmund National Park is so popular to begin with. Largest in the country?"

"Okay, okay, you're throwing all these names at me in one sentence, I don't know where to start," confessed Dub.  
"How can you not know the geography of your holiday destination?"  
"Wood, I've spent the better part of this 'holiday'" - his hands made the air quotes - "locked in a padded bedroom for no good reason. I can't even remember if this is the town Max and I started at. Just that I've been here since forever, waiting for a heads up or a sign or something."

Wood nodded to himself, very slightly but visible. "So, in a way, I've been the best thing for you since your separation from your owner."  
"...yeah. You could say that." The chill refreshing itself across every part of him as if it was brand new certainly agreed.

After that, they dropped the subject of exercise and focused on expanding further what little knowledge Dub had about this place on land. Wood pointed him in the direction of Tierpark Sassnitz, apparently the only zoo in the area, but they figured it was still closed for the holidays, so what was the point?  
They lingered at one end of the really long suspension bridge connecting the port to the town centre. In fact, Dub would have elected to have a race across were it not for his date's refusal to do so. "If one of us slipped and fell in the water, it would ruin the whole ...experience." And he did have to admit, he could feel the vertigo from here, dipping and dizzy.  
He managed to get one in anyway, through the sometimes crowded, sometimes deserted streets rather than high up in the air over the turbulent ocean. Through the tangling legs of people passing by, on the sidewalks and under the lampposts, the world flowing surprisingly fast underneath and up as they chased, paced. He let them tie after both of them started to get worn out.

Once they refreshed themselves and figured out where they'd ended up, Dub practically dragged Wood back to the shopping district, just to see if all the sweets and confections and their enticing aromas were still there, and they were. There was even a display of marzipan made into the shape of pigs.  
"Have I told you how much Max loves marzipan? He'll be right in the middle of a sprinting session, but stick some marzipan fruit on a table on the side of the track and he's snacking on it within a few laps." He sniffed the air some more, the thick proxy-taste of almonds tinting the frost. "Not that I can blame him. I love the smell of it myself."  
Wood stood on the tips of his toes to look up at the display. _Keep your eyes on his head, Dub, not on his tail._  "I will admit, I see - or smell, in this case - the appeal of Glücksschwein," he said.

"That's not Glooks-vine, that's marzipan."  
His date (no, he **couldn't** get over that) chuckled. "No no, it means 'lucky pig'. It's tradition to pass these out or sell them as New Year's Eve presents, to make the upcoming year a fortunate one."

Dub's stomach lurched, despite the bombartment of scents trying to settle it. "Oh shit, really? It's New Year's Eve already?"  
Yes, it was, according to the newsagents. December (or Dezember) 31. Surprisingly, even Wood hadn't quite kept track of time enough to know this until he saw the pigs.

Dub spoke a lot less for the rest of the date than he had been, because part of him was dedicated to hashing the fact out.  
It was the end of the year - he'd sort of known it was close, they'd been here since Boxing Day, but not **this**  close - and he was away from his owner for it. Granted, he was also being with Wood, wandering up and down Sassnitz, sometimes with no particular target in mind, but he was still spending it away from Max.  
Or, more to the point, Max was spending it away from him. His human had been a constant topic of conversation throughout the afternoon, wherever Dub could find a memory that linked to what he saw. He was almost a presence in his consistency, a third wheel, a backdrop.

Almost a presence. Not an actual. Max hadn't come back for him all year.

His 'spiteful side' had a fun few minutes. _If he isn't back now, he never will be. No one leaves anyone behind just for six months. It's either not for long or forever._  
He drowned it out with the cold, the fizzing and popping sensation of being near Wood for so long. He tried to push the doubt out altogether.  
It still nested in the back of his head.

The day moved around them as they did, skies turning from blue to red to a navy dark, and before they knew what was happening it had been nighttime for quite a while. But Dub wasn't in any hurry to get back. He'd spent this long with his crush. What was another hour or two?  
So, through a bit of step retracing, they found themselves in a wide patch of grass that could've been called a park at some point, sitting down to watch the skies and count the glistening distant specks that winked at them from above.  
"You know, Dub," said Wood after a time, "New Year's Eve is the only time of year it's legal to launch fireworks in Germany. So you'd better relish this night. You won't see another in this country for a long time."

Dub kind of felt both honoured and not. This apparent contraband was commonplace back in Manchester, sometimes even during the day, the smell of smoke and gunpowder covering home. Especially on Bonfire Night, and hell, New Year's Eve there too.  
The rising of a bright orange firecracker, close by but far away, cued his mind to drift.

Would Max be seeing anything like this tonight? Would he bother going to the New Year's party the team always threw without Dub by his side? How was he feeling; what would he be doing? Would he be worried about him, or would he shrug it off and get into the swing and spirit, throwing back drinks and testing his tolerance? Would he get a midnight kiss just as the biggest rocket exploded (silly question, he usually did), and who would be the lucky squeeze?  
Would he be thinking at all of his missing turtle?

More colours split the air, a dazzling display. Flowers, suns, moons, various sounds, whizzing downwards, almost deafening. They shone against Wood's hood in the dark, tinting him a rainbow, like Sly in a way.

Something in him glinted again. Memories and reality and fantasy blurred, overlapped, one image consistent. An image he focused on.  
He had a germ of an idea. Something to link there and here. Something to prove...

 _Dub, what are you thinking?_ asked the malicious part of him.  
_I need to do this now, or I'll never do it._  
_What do you-? Dub, you're not - ?_  
_He's proven himself. I'm still here. Besides, why not put the German she taught me to good use?_  
_It's stupid. It's reckless. It's dangerous._  
_It's time to be truthful across the board._

Looking at his date, thinking of his human, away from his teams, Dub made one of the easiest and hardest decisions he'd ever had to make.

"Wood?"  
No response.  
"Ahem. Wood, hey."  
The raven tilted his head in his direction. "What is it?"

He inhaled, hoped against hope that he'd say this right after only a day or two of practice, memorization.  
" _Ich möchte... deine Hand halten._ " It sounded stilted, but it got the job done.

The beak turned down to look at the wing closest to him (his left), up again. "You want to hold--"  
"Yep."  
"You learned German just to tell me this?" For the first time, Dub got to hear the 'mixture of incredulous, impressed and slightly confused about a gesture' tone out of someone other than Max's crush of the month.  
"No, but it was something I wanted to learn."  
"And how did you manage that?"  
"That's not the point. The point is, _Ich möchte_  wir--" Ack, the W thing again, he tripped on his tongue. " _ **Wirklich**_ , heh, _deine Hand halten._  Sorry, trouble with my virkliches," he said a lot more casually than he felt.

Wood could clearly feel the tension too. He picked up his wing, stared at it, Dub, it. It was an odd thing to think, but he looked more appealing when he was so unsure. Even he had vulnerabilities.  
Then, as though he was still on the cusp of taking it back, the limb went down, flat on the ground. It moved closer to him, angled towards him. It was an invitation.

A little falteringly himself, Dub placed his right hand on the tip of the wing. Immediately, the frost went into overdrive, creeping over his glove and heart and brain.  
The other's fabric felt so soft. He knew it would, as they were both plushies, but not quite like this. On instinct, he moved his own across, and around, and clasped it gently.  
" _Danke. Es fühlt sich... gut,_ " he said, hoping it wouldn't get lost in their mental havoc. _Gut_  was an understatement, considering, but it was the only one he knew.

The fireworks kept going and whirling as they watched them together. Streaks of every hue, shade, bass pops. It was like a disco with no music, a filtered version of the party he was missing.  
But he would bring at least one aspect of the present to here. The one that would cause the largest spread of green or blue or whatever through the cosmos was getting ever closer with each stretching minute.  
When Wood was distracted by an extra loud blast to the right, he reached into his shell and snuck out the timer, concealed in the free hand.

_You're being a traitor._  
_I'm being what I should've been from the start._

Every sense heightened as he waited for the key moment, the part to truly fuel this. Sight to detect the rising of it in the distance. Sound to give him the cue. The gut instinct that helped him figure out if this was really it.  
And then, it was. A dot rose and rose, up and up. The last and biggest of the display.

As soon as he saw even the smallest sliver of red spit itself out, he pressed the Stop/Start button.

_Beep._

The senses became muted. Sight halted in its tracks, sound got cut off. Thirty seconds had begun, and the only moving witnesses were Dub and a Wood thrust into a whole new world.

He sputtered something out in German, utterly bewildered for once; pulled his wing away; found the timer in Dub's hand.  
"I- Did... did you do that?" he asked, staggered.  
Dub nodded.  
"How - when did you - what did - how?"  
"You didn't check my timer closely enough."  
"Your timer did that?"  
_Come on, Wood, this is kind of urgent here?_  "Yes. Now shut up." He moved closer, only to be cut off again.  
"Have you always been able to--"  
"Yes I've always been able to do that! Now **shut up** , I've got fifteen seconds left, and this is my one chance to do this."

What resulted wasn't quite a midnight kiss. Not really. But it was a kiss, his very first, eyes closed, mouth on beak, the searing ice inside and out rising into an ecstasy across his skin and mind. And through it all, one thought kept him on track.

_This one's for us, Max._

The unpausing of the firework barely registered. And by the time Dub found it in himself to pull away, the burst of red across the sky (and the echoed blue within) had already crackled and expanded into little stars.

Quiet overtook them for a few agonizing seconds, each waiting for the other to make the first move.  
Dub tried to put it out of its misery. "Heh, I know, I've got very... specific fantasies," he joked, for lack of anything else to say. His head floated like helium.

The raven didn't pick up on the humor of that. He just kept glancing at the timer like it was going to fall apart.  
"Sorry, Dub," he said at last, a bit husky (understandably so), "I'm still trying to wrap my head around this. You can _stop time_  with that?"  
"Stop implies I can control how long it's for. It's more like pausing. And only for thirty seconds. Of, like, paused time. I don't quite understand it myself."

"And. And you've had this for how long?"  
"Like I said, always. Since the others got theirs. I just only found out after the, well, the whole asylum fire... thing."  
_Why are you feeling guilty, Dub? Stop it._

Wood had stilled himself, and become pretty much unfathomable as a result. That was one drawback of having a date with a hood on his face; he couldn't tell how the other felt with one look.  
"Okay. I'm sure I don't need to ask why you didn't tell me about this."  
"Nope. You were Personal Enemy Number One at the time, we needed some kind of boost. Simple logic."  
"But what I can't grasp as clearly," said Wood, "is why you're deciding to tell me now."

That was a lot easier to explain, even for the non-wordy kind of turtle Dub was.  
"Wood, we went out on a date today. Uh, technically we're **still**  on a date," he added, thinking better of it. "You had a lot of chances today to hurt me, since we're still enemies in the formal sense. Remember on that bridge when you said we could fall in the water? You didn't push me in to prove it. Because I didn't hurt you first. Eye for an eye, remember? So I was thinking, like - if you couldn't take the chance to hurt me there, there was a good chance you wouldn't hurt me ever, even if I revealed this secret."  
He put the timer down, just off to the side. The display blinked up at them, and peripherally, he could see the flashes of other, more distant firework shows.

"That's why Dolly wanted me to keep it quiet, like you said. She wanted to stop me getting hurt because of it. But you know what?" He looked into where he presumed Wood's eyes were. "Today proved that you **wouldn't**  hurt me. We were on a date as us. Not doctor and patient, not enemy and enemy. Wood and Dub, the toys. And you didn't use anything against me, despite the fact you could've at any time. That's why I told you, Wood. Because it wouldn't hurt us, any of us, to do it. It's helped us, if anything."  
And it _had_  helped. With all that off his shoulders, he felt a lot freer. More agile in spirit.

"I think you're better than everyone says you are."

Wood said nothing.

The silence was coming back; he had to stave it off. "So. If you've got nothing else to ask... you mind if I kiss you again? Just 'cus, you know. That was really... good," said the most awkward plush toy in the park.  
A nod, small, yet accepting.

Everything in his body became more fluid, more tangible. His heartbeat, the itching beyond his feet, the two clashing halves of his brain screaming "no no" and "yes yes" at him.  
And for the second time that night, Dub indulged the chill.

It wasn't the completely overwhelming sensation the first kiss had been. It was somehow more than that. No secrets and no burdens and fewer fears; unlocked lips, in metaphor and reality.

He couldn't see, his eyes had flitted shut again, and yet he could picture who he was moving against. He could hear the rustling of grass under his hands, the increasing pulse. He could feel the raven not giving back much, not responding much, just enough to keep him hooked, keep him wanting him and kissing and short-circuiting. The sweet taste of belief.

He could sense everything here.  
Every centimetre. Every thread.  
Every fibre. Every breath.  
All that was them, the two, together. An onslaught. A confirmation of what he truly felt for him right now.

He moved away, reluctantly, to whisper it to him, close.  
" _Ich vertraue dir._ "  
Some time to let it sink in as he caught himself, his head swimming in the sheer cold.  
When nothing came back, he tried again. "I- that. That... that means I trust you."

He could have sworn he saw Wood's beak change through the veil. A smirk - no, a smile.  
"I know."  
He moved in to try and kiss him one more time, to savour the moment for even longer...

...but then the other dissolved, faded into a sheet of emptiness and night.

Dub landed on his face, caught off balance from the sudden disappearance. Pulling himself up first to sitting, he looked all around for him, then again while standing, spinning on the spot. But not a sign of him.  
"Wood? Where'd you go?" he called into the blank space. "Come back."  
The skies had darkened, no, were getting darker right now. The shows shouldn't have ended yet but the lights were dimming, and the above was stripping down to submarine grey, then to coal black. Not even the moon was shining down. He ran one way, rebounded the other.  
"Come on, Wood, can you hear me? What's going on?"  
He almost tripped over his timer, still on the ground where they had been sitting. He reached for it and picked it up, checked for any sign of brightness. But there was nothing to see, not even the 88:88.

Wait. It shouldn't have been able to do that here. He tried to relax.  
"Oh. Oh, I get it. You're throwing some of those delusion things at me," he said in no particular direction. "Trying to recruit me again. Okay, very clever, very impressive. But you can stop it now."

It didn't. The park didn't come back.

"I said stop." More searching, veering his head around. "This isn't funny!"  
Not a sound, not a hint that Wood was even there. The chill had taken on a painful edge to it, but that could have been anything. Fake or otherwise.

The ground was steeped in pitch now, he couldn't see anything, even himself, couldn't move anywhere but back. No colour and no light. Blind.  
Breathing and crackle and steps across faded, cut to silence. Deaf to all but his own thoughts, voice, stranded in the eclipse.  
"Wood, **stop it!**  You're starting to freak me out!"

 _Wood's not coming back._  His brain had woken up, and apparently decided to get in on the act. _He's gone and he's left you in the middle of town on your own._  
"No-no he hasn't," he shouted, to purge the nothing. "He wouldn't. I said I trust him."  
_He has. You're trapped, and Max isn't coming to save you._  
"No, come on, me, shut up!"

 _You'd better run, Dub,_  the warning reverbed from the back of his own head, more bitter than before. _Run if you want to find him. Run if you want to get home._  
Wood couldn't have left. He'd just been there. But it was run or remain here in the oppressive dusk, the noiselessness. So he ran.

Only he didn't. He tried, he took to his heels and pressed ahead, holding the timer close to his chest. But with every step, his feet grew heavier, like everything that had happened and everything he had felt were pooling in his soles, weighing him down, wearing him out.  
_You can't run. You can't hide. You're not as fast as you used to be, are you?_  it mocked. _You can't even escape the minutes passing._  
"This isn't real," he chanted as he dragged himself along, "it's not real it's not real it's not real I trust him it's not real..."  
_If you trust him, why would he do this?_  
"To test me or something, to recruit me, to I don't know, but it's not real!"  
_It's real, Dub. Projections can't make your body hurt as you push against your expectation._  
"SHUT UP IT'S NOT REAL!" he cried, but before he could fight it anymore he smacked into something, hard, falling back.

The timer slipped out of his hand and fell somewhere next to him with a sickening crash. The piercing sound of snapping plastic, shattering remnants of Max.

"Oh crap oh crap oh shit **oh shit oh shit!!** "  
Dub scrambled around in the void, looking for what was left of the obviously broken timer, all fours, twos, he couldn't tell, probably fours. It had landed pretty close by from the sound of it.  
He found that out the hard way; he felt a searing pain in his right front 'foot', pulled it inwards, suppressed a wave of swear words. A fragment of the thing had caught in his hand, splitting the seam and making the--

Pain.  
All movement in his body and out of it stopped dead. Wood couldn't replicate pain.  
Seeing and hearing things were understandable. Even water was possible. But not physical hurt, not like that.  
Denial stripped away from him like air. Wood wasn't faking this. He was trapped in here with cruel verbal barbs and stuffing coming out of the wound.

 _Wounds need bandages, Dub._  
A rough force fell on him, pinning him on a stretch of flat ground. Who was it? What was it? Human, toy, beast?  
It didn't matter with the sound of unravelling right next to his ear.  
Something long and thick and unending wrapped itself around the damaged hand, tight, squeezing it, a pain in itself. It didn't stop there. It kept unwinding, all up his arm, arms, legs, feet, pressing the limbs tight to his body, binding him together, all over.  
Around his neck, cutting off air. Over his mouth, his ears, his vision. Sightless, soundless, muteness, on top of what had come before.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He tried, he struggled, but the bandages would not snap or fray. He tried to scream for help, but it was no use.

_No one will come for help anyway. No one will want to save you. Max isn't here. Wood isn't here. Dolly and Kroko and Sly aren't here. You can't rescue yourself. You can't even run a race without tiring yourself out. What makes you think you have a chance, you pathetic thing? You liar, you cheat? You blob of useless fat?_  
_There is no saving you now. Accept it._

_This is no less than you deserve._

Mummified in his own inadequacies, his abandonment, the lack of anything except the snapped shard still in his hand, Dub ceased.

****

He sat unmoving for what felt like a million forevers. He had to. There was no way to move, nor any reason. It would waste energy, time, effort.  
What good would it do with no one to see him like this?

Blackness danced in front of him, absolute, the kind that couldn't come from simply shutting his eyes. He even did just that, to bring back the colors, the streaks of green and yellow, that usually came when he did that, but none appeared. The wrapping was too tight, a switchblade pressing against his throat.  
His lungs felt like cardboard, with no air to take in.

Sometimes, he thought he heard sounds, or felt the shifting of his own dead weight. But that couldn't have been. He was alone, as horrible as that was, and there was nothing he could do to escape it.  
_This is inevitable. Why resist it?_  
Senseless.

Time passed, but didn't, in a bubble of oil, oozing and flexing. More noises, but those were his imagination, muted wishful thinking. Murmurs, blunt unintelligible statements. A crash, shouts that sounded low and scratchy, like Wood and Dolly. Ever so faintly, the snarling of a beast.  
_Why dream? Why dwell? They have no idea where you are. You'll suffocate before they find you._

And yet, they still persisted, flickering in the edges of his hearing, if only for a second before being again snuffed out.  
What was going on?

Another eternity yawned in front of him, and he found himself shaking, just a little bit, under the bondage. It did no good, it was tiny, but it kept him alive, even if the stuff over his mouth could not.  
Then it came back, this time stronger, moving him back and forth. Something buzzed, too high. Again. The thunk of beads against a surface.  
Did his memory have to rub in the voices of those who would never come?  
Another. What was this? What was shaking him? Was he shaking himself? What was that angry sound from the--

 **Slap.**  
A stinging sensation from a hoof seared his cheek and his neck moved and he found himself letting out a gasp. Gasp, breath, he could breathe, he was loose.  
In that one moment, the nothingness stripped away. It was still dark but there were actual colours, brown floor and yellowish world. Light, from somewhere, behind, tinted by something else. The bandages were gone. He could move his hand again. Nothing in his hand. No pain there.  
It was freezing, but it wasn't the chill, at least not the one inside him. For standing almost on top of the just free turtle was Dolly, surrounded by the others.

"I'm nae sorry fur 'at. I shoold've slapped ye harder."

How had she found him? What was he doing back here? And what about Wood?  
"W-where'd-?" he tried to spit out.  
"No, I dornt want t' hear it. I made ye make **one promise** , Dub," said Dolly, her accent not comforting in tone, but in presence. "I tauld ye nae t' tell 'im, ye said ye wooldnae. An' whit do ye do? As suin as ye gie a chance to gie out, ye run yer ass awa' an' tell 'im!! That isnae how promises work!" Her vitriol hissed at him.  
He looked down, mumbled out an apology, glanced around.

His timer was at his side. Intact. Unshattered. The display blinking as it always had.  
"What, how?" He grabbed it with his good hand, no they were both good hands no sharpness, looked it over. "How'd you manage to fix this? I thought - the shard in my hand - it was - "  
"Oh, so ye didne listen to **'at**  either." Sly rattled in the background, but she ignored him. "I kent thes wood happen. _He did t' ye whit he did t' Kroko._  Whatever ye felt back thaur wasnae real. He tricked ye. Ah tauld ye he wood. But nae, ye hink th' rules - th' _one rule_ , dornt goddamn tell Wood abit th' goddamn secrit weapon - dornt apply tae ye. Ye hink yoo're abuv th' system." Something growled in her stomach. "Ye ur so damn lucky the wolf woke up when it - ze - did. Otherwise we'd ne'er hae gotten ye outta his place, th' state ye waur in."

It hadn't been real. No broken item. No bandages. No emptiness.  
_No duds?_  his conscience whispered, not as bitter now. Had that, too, been fake, or had it been the one consistency?  
Either way, it had had a point. He'd lost breath in that race. No one had found him until... now, he supposed. There had been no one to rescue him.  
And he had lied. A lot.

"Go on 'en!" Her yell jarred against him. "Dornt jist sit thaur starin' at us loch a gormless wonder! Explain yerself! Whit cood **possibly**  justify runnin' aff to Wood an' spillin' yer secret to 'im?"  
Every excuse he had sounded pathetic when he thought of it. _Just like you?_  
"I. Well. I thought because Lyall-" he tried first.  
"Ye thought coz we hud anither ace up uir sleeve, 'at keepin' whieest didne matter? Thought yoo'd _even th' playin' field_  a bit?"

"I didn't think he'd do this, Dolly. I didn't think he'd hurt me."  
"Och bludy really?! Ye didne hink th' big bad raven, who has chibbed us wi' sticks an' made Kroko a wreck an' triggered me wi' nae remorse, wood hurt ye?! Whit makes ye th' expert anyway?"  
"I suppose I just thought that I could well you know trust him," he said, getting increasingly lower until it was barely a whisper.

Dolly, for lack of an immediate response, stared at him, her eyelid twitching.  
"Dub, ye ur **impossible**."  
With that, she backed off at last, moving towards the living room. To sleep, he guessed.  
"Dolly, I'm sorr--"  
"Shut it. I dornt e'en want t' look at ye reit noo."

No one else did, either. They went their separate ways to bed, even if Kroko didn't look like he was going to get any rest. Sly lingered the longest of them, but he probably didn't even know what the matter was, and he spun up the banister shortly after anyway.  
Dub didn't follow suit. He didn't even move. He ran the night over in his head, or rather its rapid decay.

It had been so vivid. So lifelike, even if it wasn't real. Would that one element being true really have been a stretch?  
_He had to get it from somewhere._  
No, he couldn't be a failure, not a flop, not a washout. He'd been training so hard, before and after the powers.  
_That timer drains your energy. Of course you'll be weak._  
If he wasn't his best, Max would be so disappointed.  
_Like he wouldn't be already for you being so gullible? So easy to use?_

He looked down at the timer once again. He hadn't used it with his rope for a while. The red wire had disappeared, burnt with their old life.  
But he could still run. He could see if he could race around the place in thirty seconds. It was a simple task. He'd done it all the time at home, or had that been in a minute? Speeding through the garden and the open gates at the side, through the blue and black bins, and every time he did it Max would tell him how proud he was of him, his high performance...  
No, he was fairly certain it was thirty seconds. He wouldn't remember it so strongly if it wasn't.  
If he could do it now, Max would still be proud. Everything about it would have been wrong. And he would be better.

When he saw Sly's and Kroko's focuses were elsewhere, he crept back out the front door to prove it once and for all.

There were lights outside now, lampposts. The moon bore down, and the stars, the remnants of firework shows that had since passed, and the aura of those now beginning. The town was just as it should have been, and yet so much more was at stake. His value to Max, to Dolly, to...  
Not to Wood. Wood didn't matter here. Even the attraction was more subdued at the memory of it.  
He mapped the route out in his head. There weren't even any gates at the side this time, just a short brick wall separating the house from the one next to it. If he started at the front door, he could definitely make this.

He slipped the timer into his shell, where it was cushioned, and started its countdown once again.  
He took off immediately. No weights this time. The stopped time added air pressure, like walking, swimming, but he was a good swimmer too, aerodynamic and everything; he pressed on through it, he didn't let it get to him.  
Round the side of the house. An unexpected hazard, a small pit; he leapt over it as he had a puddle. He had to, nothing could stop him, though he tripped as he entered the garden, that would slow him down.  
Halfway across the empty space, he had to stop himself from pausing to catch his breath. No, that would waste time, he had to do this. His lungs burnt from it, but he had to carry on.  
Over and through the steadfast grass, missteps and tumbles could do nothing to keep him down. He had to run, he had to run and win and get over the wall and get--

_Beep beep beep beep._

Time resumed in his chest. Blades broke under the halting footfalls.  
Thirty seconds was up. He hadn't made it over the wall. He hadn't even made it all the way through the back lawn.

He **was**  a failure.

The bottom of the world dropped out from under his feet, a cliff's edge, and meaning and purpose fell away. The sound of laughter, pitying and triumphant, Max's, rang in his ears. Everything in front of him blurred, the blackness was back and more sticky and solidifying than before, for this was realer than even real had been.

He felt himself collapse into sitting, but just barely. He felt his mind undo, piece by piece. He felt his legs retract, his arms fall in, his neck sink in, and he landed on his stomach, inside his own shell.

The midnight pulled him down, down, down into his, its, life's pointlessness.

Why defy it?


	14. Contra Bonos Mores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, without cheating: can you spot the shout-out to pollyrepeat's Sparkles and the Great Escape?
> 
>  **Chapter theme** :  selfishness  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Trouble - Coldplay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FPzI4dpEcF8)

What was a river doing in a jungle? He'd chased the big man with the glowing red yellow eyes all through the bushes and leaves and pokey sticks until they'd gotten here, and the man had walked into it and disappeared. But jungles didn't have rivers, did they? The grey snake with lipstick had said so, or in this case the grey snake with a weaving tail in brown.  
The water crashed across from him, a lot rougher than the lake that also couldn't exist. It churned and bumped and it made the rocks in the middle break off and float away. The man wasn't coming back, so if he was going to get back his rattle and the bells he had to go into the water, at least cross it.  
But it looked too scary to go in there. He would get all chopped up and the sparks would hurt it and that was too painful. So he stayed on this side, staring down at his reflection until he couldn't even see it for the bubbles.  
  
Or the banister, because he woke up a little bit after that. He quickly checked to see if the rattle had gone away, but no, it was still in his tightly coiled tail, which was great. He shook it to make it better. He hadn't let go of it since he'd gotten it, which made blocks-onning Lilo less easy, but the sounds it made and the feeling of being a real snake at last were worth it. Nobody else liked the sounds as much as he did, but they didn't matter. They weren't proper like him.  
He'd risen late in the day, it was light outside, but earlier than everybody else. Lilo wasn't out in the hall, and when he unwrapped himself from the stick and poked his head into the cupboard in the stairs, he was sleeping, tossing and turning with the pin in his mouth shining and pricking.  
  
He wove into the table room, making a lot of sparks to get him alert. Kroko was snoozing too, draped over the part that held the curtains, blanket below. Dolly was still white dreaming, which meant that Ze-Sir was as well.  
They'd all been awake late into the night again, because they had to sneak into the house a twice time. Ze'd been very brave yesterday, growling and poking zer nose out of Dolly to scare everybody off like that. Though it wasn't very secret, it was enough for Lilo to grab Dub and Kroko to grab the timer and them all to run away with it. There'd been a lot of shouting and tension, but now everyone was quiet and in bed and it was a new day and they could go find Dr Wood to break through the shield again, just as Lilo had--  
  
He stopped, seeing something very odd in the kitchen. The drawer where Dub slept was shut. So were the others. Drawers weren't meant to be shut, they were meant to be open. He opened all the drawers, especially the bottom one, but when he got to it, it brought up something even odder, and more frightening.  
  
He immediately went to Dolly to open her door and give her the news. "[Dolly? Dolly, something's gone bad. Dolly, Ze-Sir, any, there's a bad problem. Dolly.  **Dolly.** ]"  
She didn't wake up when he shook her, so he shook  _in_  her instead, in her ear actually. She usually yelled at him for that, and that would mean she was awake.  
It worked; her smoke became black again. "[Sly, how many times do I have to tell you not to-?]" She stopped, seeing the lack of rest. "[What are you even doing up? No one else is awake yet.]" Dolly was awake, though, and  **she**  was someone else. He had to wonder how she could be so unaware sometimes.  
But that wasn't important: "[Dolly, there's a problem bad. You know Dub?]"  
"[What, the traitor? What about him?]"  
  
"[He's kinda sorta not in bed and missing.]"  
That got her up.  
  
That got everyone else up too, Dolly calling for a search party, though he didn't see any candy or balloons. They looked all around the house for him, in the kitchen, living room, hall, upstairs, some rooms they didn't even know existed. Lilo checked the bathrooms on his own. But Dub wasn't in any of them.  
They headed outside, and the sun had come up some more and the sky was bright blue and open. The air smelt like someone had lit up a giant cigarette and tossed it onto the town without setting it on fire.  
  
Dolly wasn't on fire either, she was just rain-cloudy. "[I hope this isn't because of me,]" she said as the group split up to search outside. "[Though I wouldn't be surprised if it is. I was kinda rough on him.]"  
"[What, because you gave him a smack?]" he asked.  
She looked down and rubbed her foot on the ground. "[I'm not saying he didn't deserve to be yelled at. He did. I just shouldn't have slapped him. And now he's gone off to Wood, no doubt, and we're going to have to rescue him. Again.]"  
  
"[Why? He's already in big trouble, why get more?]"  
"[I can't see where else he could've gone.]" She looked up and down the street as if ready to cross it. "[We haven't seen head or tail of Wood or the toys with him all night. Kroko was looking out for them, I saw; if someone had come to fetch Dub, he'd've told me right away.]"  
"[Well,  **I**  think this would be great! We'd be breaking through the shield and getting the enemy apart from Wood to hit.]"  
"[Sly, just because you're addicted to hurting others doesn't mean the rest of--]"  
  
'The rest of what' Sly never found out, because they heard Kroko say something then that put an end to the search. "[Dub? Dub, wake up! What's wrong? Dub, talk to me!]"  
  
They got to the voice in the lawn at the back of the house, where Dolly had taught them to be sneaky the day before Ze-Sir came. At first it looked like he was shaking a rock to get it to move, but then he saw the rock was orange and had eyes and no legs, so that was Dub.  
"[Dolly, help, he's not moving!]" And he wasn't, if he could take being shook around like that. He might have been asleep, but the eyes were open, and stared out at something not there. So Kroko telling him to wake up so much was very silly, but Sly didn't say so.  
  
The crocodile backed away when Dolly got closer because of the rain. She pressed into the shell, once or twice, hard, but he didn't blink. She dragged his arm out and into the air, and it just stuck there like a flag, except this didn't look as funny as it should have done.  
"[Please wake him up, Dolly, I don't want him to go back in the box!]"  
"[I'm trying, I'm trying!]"  
She put the arm back and tried to push him along, raining all over him. He didn't move a muscle. Sly went over very slowly to help, not making too many sparks because the place was wet, and poked him in the face a few times, the back, tickling him. His eyes looked somewhere else, but went back when he stopped, and he didn't move the rest of him.  
  
"[Dammit, this isn't working,]" said Dolly, voice getting strained. "[Kroko, Lilo, can't you two do something?]"  
Lilo came a bit closer with his blocks, and Sly immediately thought he wanted an electric shock to turn the blocks on, so he went over to where it was dry and gave him one. But when the squishing started, Lilo glared at him and tried to hit him over the head with the square. Why couldn't he just say it was the wrong one? He had a pen and a pin. Pinpen.  
Still, Sly turned blocks off too, sulking slightly with his tongue. Dub had slid along the ground and attached himself to Lilo's side together with everyone, but when he fell down he was still in the rock, and this was starting to get scarier.  
  
Kroko tried to play the flute song to make him get up, all the way through, then again. It was a slow tune, and short, not very good to dance to. He still had the rattle so he moved it along to provide a backbeat to make it more catchy the second time. Making music was fun!  
At least until the flute stopped. "[Dolly, he's still not waking up.]"  
"[I can see that! Shit, that was the last thing I thought could work. Don't you know any more songs?]"  
He shook his head lots and lots. "[No, not on the flute, I know a few words but I don't know how to play them in notes and now Dub's never going to wake up and he'll have to go back in the box!]" he cried, clinging to the flute.  
  
Dolly's water didn't come down as hard, and a wind picked up. "[Kroko, you keep saying "go back in the box". What do you mean?]"  
"[I don't want him to go back in the box!]"  
"[I know you don't, but how can he not if we don't know what it is?]"  
Sly wanted to say that they didn't even  **have**  a box, unless blocks on counted, but before he could get further than "[We don't e--]" the other hid away and said "[I'm not telling you.]"  
"[Can you not do this secrecy thing again? This could be sort of important!]"  
The flute went around and around in his claws. "[I can't tell you, how do I know you won't put Dub in the box if I tell you?]" he demanded. "[And then after you put Dub in the box you'll put  **me**  in the box and then no one will ever see us again!]"  
"[Kroko sweetie please, what do you me--]"  
  
She stopped short. All the rain went away very quickly. Everyone looked at her, except Dub of course.  
 _[Sweetie?]_  
"[--ven?]"  
  
Even Kroko stopped being as paranoid. "[D-did you just call me-?]"  
"[No. Mayb-- that's not important. And you can shut up as well, wolf.]"  
  
Had Ze-Sir been laughing at her? He couldn't hear. He wished ze was here to push things along. Then maybe ze'd call him Snake Boy some more; he liked that nickname, coming from zer. It made him feel proper and good and...  
...strangely confused. And he didn't know  **why**  ze made him confused, which was weird in itself.  
  
Dolly talking again stopped him going back over the double-up. "[Kroko, please. What do you mean by 'put Dub back in the box'?]" she asked, more soft and twinkling and misty. "[I'm not going to put you or Dub or anyone else back in the box if it's not gonna help him. I just want to know what that means.]"  
He saw Kroko blink and think for a minute or maybe more, then uncurl himself. At this point, Sly was more than curious for what he meant as well. In the box didn't sound like a good time, but if it made everyone else helpful...  
  
"[Okay. I'll talk.]" Kroko breathed. "[When... This one time, when Dr Spieler had only been here for a few days, she took me out of my cereal box. She said I was very frightened and didn't listen to her or to Reason, whoever Reason is, so she gave me an injection in my nose. Something called... Halo-Stop-Ultra, I think?]"  
Sly didn't remember a time Kroko hadn't been out of his house. He did, but he didn't, it was way too fuzzy so it couldn't have been real.  
"[The injection made me feel all bubbly and colourful, the best I'd felt in a while,]" he continued quietly. "[There was a butterfly with a pen and he made the room and the sky change between red and pink and blue and neon and back to yellow. Yellow meant therapy again, and made me sleepy, but I didn't want to lose the good feeling. Or the colours.]"  
Heh, he could agree with that.  
"[So... so when I asked for some more of that stuff, she gave it to me. But this time wasn't so good, it fell after going up, and it gave me red painful eyes--]" He shivered and juddered. "[I had to keep rubbing them to get rid of the blackness coming in. She gave me one more because she got scared, and that was even worse because the actual eyes came and I hid and couldn't stop shaking.]" He broke off.  
  
"[Kroko? Kroko, how did you get out of that?]" Dolly prompted.  
  
"[...There's something under the bed.]"  
  
There was? Sly had never seen it, and he'd been under there a few times to play a game with the therapist.  
Dolly seemed confused too. "[What something?]" Then, "[Sorry, Kroko, but this could be useful,]" when he didn't reply.  
  
"[It. It's a big something.]" His voice was wobbly with the fearful memory. "[It's metal, with all these dials on it, and a wire coming out from it with a stethoscope-like thing on the end, and a brown strap, and it lives under the bed. She put the strap around me and the end on either side of my nose, and then she turned the machine part on, and it gave me...  
"[It gave me an electric shock. A huge one, like how your lightning hits us sometimes. And it made me black out and when I woke up I was back in the box.]"  
  
"[ _Ohhhhhh!_ ]" Sly said out loud. "[You meant the  _spoon_  cereal!]"  
The sheep didn't even growl at him for being shouty this time, busy sitting down and flinching.  
"[N-no, I mean the box. I don't know how, but being put back in there fixed me. Dr Spieler said afterwards that it was only to be done when nothing else could be, and she never wanted to do it again. So I didn't get any more injections until quite a bit later, and then a lot of things happened and I became an eagle,]" Kroko finished. He looked at Dub sadly. "[I'm sorry I can't be of more help, Dolly.]"  
  
"['Can't be of more help' nothing. You might have just saved Dub's skin here.]"  
"[Dolly! You said you wouldn't put him in the box!]" he cried, sounding very betrayed.  
She explained things in not exactly an excited way but not exactly morose either: "[It's not the box, Kroko, it's the electricity. You just came in the cereal box when they took you to the asylum. It's the electric shock that resets your brain here. And if we can get some of that into Dub, then... then he might get up.]"  
  
"[But where are we going to get sparks to put into Dub?]" Sly pointed out. "[If what's under the asylum is still in the bed we'll have to go all the way back there to pick it up, and if it's big we'll have to roll it back, and it might not be there however because of the big fire and stuff.]"  
Everyone looked at him like he didn't know what he was talking about.  
"[I'm just saying! Dials are hard things to carry around, not like rattles, and Dr Spieler isn't there to attach the nose to Dub, and if we come in or out wrong Wood will know where we live and it'll be even more trouble for us!]" he protested, slamming the rattle down on the ground and making sparks burst out from his tail.  
  
...Wait. Sparks.  **He**  could make sparks.  
  
"[...You want  _me_  to make sparks for Dub?]" he asked Dolly.  
"[There's not much alternative here, Sly. Like you said, we can't go fetch the machine, and drastic as it is, it might get him awake and--]"  
  
"[No.]"  
"[--what?]"  
  
Sly shook his own head. "[No, I can't give sparks to Dub. I don't want to. It's wrong.]"  
Normally giving sparks to people was a good thing. It made them hurt if it was the enemy and blocks on if it was Lilo. But doing it to Dub... Dub hadn't asked for sparks and Dub didn't deserve them, so Sly was never never never forever going to give them to him.  
  
"[It's  _wrong_?]" said Dolly, her eyelids squeezing together. "[You're saying potentially saving Dub's life is  _wrong?!_ ]"  
"[It's not that - well - I shouldn't. Dub didn't want sparks, and he's a good guy. He's not the enemy,]" he flustered, twisting his tail in and out around itself.  
"[Lilo's not the enemy either, and you shock him like he's a plug socket!]"  
"[Well, yeah, but I but but he's used to it from me, so he doesn't get any pain from-- OW!]" Lilo had hit him on the head again. "[Lilo, why are you on  **their**  end?! You don't want Dub to get badly hurt from sparks, do you?]"  
  
"[ **You**  don't want Dub to not wake up again, do you?]" said Kroko from the corner.  
"[Uh, not either, but it, isn't there another toy? Dolly, you can make lightning all around, we said yourself,]" he tried.  
  
She laughed harshly: "[You really think I'm going to willingly trigger myself by walking out in front of a dog with Dub in, what, a wheelbarrow or something, so he can catch my fear?]"  
"[No! I think Dub would be in a wagon, not a wheelbarrow. I don't even know what is a wheelbarrow.]"  
"[Well, heads up, Sly, I'm not. I'm not going to trigger myself, so you either give him a shot of static from that tail of yours, or Dub stays like this for the rest of his life. Which is it?]"  
  
"[It the the I it I don't even have enough sparks,]" he said as a last chance to get out.  
"[Sly, listen, I don't want Dub to go back in the box any more than you do,]" called Kroko with enough doubt to mean it, "[but if Dolly's telling you it's okay to do it--]"  
"[But it isn't! It's wrong!]"  
  
"[So you think you have the moral high ground here? That's rich coming from a thief.]"  
"[I don't know I'm not supposed to it can't I can't I won't I won't  _I won't I won't **I won't I won't!!**_ ]" Sly screamed out and fled away away from the back garden from others and everything and Dub looking on with those still, unblinking eyes...  
  
\---------------  
  
...and found himself back on the stairs, not on the banister this time, but near the bottom of the actuals, on the third step.  
  
He couldn't hear them arguing outside anymore. He couldn't hear anything outside himself, his mind was panickful. He had to stretch out, all the way, to get it to slow down, and even then it still ran his thoughts together.  
One came out clearer than the others though. He was right to leave them alone as it was wrong, it was very wrong to shock Dub.  
  
...Wasn't it?  
What the others had said battered him left and right, trying to get him to do it when he was out of the picture. The sight of Dub as a rock looked at him, no matter how hard he tried to close his eyes and not have to see it, a tough job when he didn't have any eyelids, so he unfocused them instead and still it was there.  
If it was wrong to give Dub sparks, why was everything in him trying to make him feel so guilty for running off? He shouldn't feel guilty just for going away, he thought. He had to get out. Every snake for himself.  
But he still felt it. Why?  
  
Sly didn't understand, and not in a good way. Normally when he didn't understand someone would be there to explain it to him and make him feel better, like the grey snake or Dr Spieler. But they weren't here. They went away and the asylum got on fire because they all got superpowers.  
His life now was very different to what it had been before, and it wasn't as easy as getting someone to tell him what was going on anymore. Especially when no one else knew what was going on too, or when Dolly did but she yelled at him.  
  
He tried to rub his eyes like Kroko said he had, but he just poked himself in them with the rattle. The vision pulsed and his hearing rang.  
It was no good. If no one else could explain it, he had to do something that he didn't even know he could do.  
He had to think extra hard. He had to decide for himself what was going on, and help himself understand. And if he still couldn't get it by the end, at least he'd have tried.  
To do that, he needed to talk to one of the mice.  
  
As if just imagining the word made it in real life, a white mouse appeared on the end of his tail.  
"[Hello, mouse,]" he said. "[Can I ask a something?]"  
 _[Yes you can,]_  it squeaked, higher sounding than even Kroko.  
  
"[Okay, so the question. Why do I feel guilty for it being wrong to spark Dub?]"  
 _[I'll have to answer that with another one, Sly. Why is it wrong to spark Dub in the first place?]_  
He already knew the answer to that. Sparking Dub was wrong because he was a good guy. Sly was a hero and so was Dub too.  
 _[Lilo is a good guy. What makes sparking Dub any anti-opposite to sparking Lilo?]_  
Lilo needed sparks to work the blocks. Dub didn't need them.  
  
 _[Expect - except he does. He needs them to wake up. Dolly is saying so,]_  said the thing on his tail, and the voice became a little less mousey.  _[Why does Lilo need sparks more than Dub does?]_  
It wasn't that Lilo needed sparks more. Dub just needed them less.  
 _[But why?]_  
  
"[Because... because... sparks hurt.]"  
He usually used them to hurt the enemies, when they gathered around him and tried to take his rattle and make everybody else hurt. Hurting was bad, because it gave him stings and made the world blur even more than it already did, and thinking so hard hurt too, but he kept through it.  
Causing hurt in the enemy was good. Causing hurt in the heroes team was bad. And Dub was already hurt badly, considering he was in a ball when they rescued him from Dr Wood's place and in a rock now.  
Dub didn't need more hurt from him.  
  
 _[So sparks hurt Dub, and sparks hurt the enemy. But sparks hurt Lilo too.]_  
"[They do?]"  
 _[He shakes a lot and holds himself like he's sick when you shock him, sometimes even when you don't like when you gave him the pin pain,]_ explained the mouse. It tapped the tail, waved it around, made the rattle move.  
"[No, no, I can't cause Lilo pain! It goes to the blocks, not to the toy. He's not allowed to pain.]"  
 _[If sparks hurt everyone else, sparks have to hurt Lilo.]_  
"[But I don't want to hurt Lilo!]" Sly insisted. "[Lilo's a good guy too, and he's a toy, and Dub's a toy, and I'm a toy, and we're all toys who live and breathe and have problems and sads, and I can't hurt them because they'll be in pain and cry. You only hurt things you hate, like enemies. Right?]"  
  
 _[The enemies are toys too.]_  
  
He dropped the rattle in shock. The mouse held on to the end of his tail so it wouldn't fall off too.  
"[No - ]" his voice rasped " - [you won't be saying - ]"  
 _[The enemies are toys. They have thoughts and live and breathe and have problems too, just like Lilo and Dub, just like you. And yet you hurt them, when nobody else wants to. You said they had to be hit and they said no.]_  
Sly tried to find something good to reply to that. "[Well, well, I hate them. They hurt me too,]" he settled.  
The mouse tsked, climbed back up, and got lower and lower.  _[ **Do**  you hate them? In the way everyone hates Wood, angry at him, yelling at him?]_  
...No. He never yelled at the living breathing toys.  
 _[Then why do you hurt them? They only hurt you because you hurt them first.]_  
  
"[No, that's bad, hurting toys is very bad!]" he cried.  
 _[But you have hurt them. Enemy or not, they're toys and they have lives, they've had owners, they have names. The things you found in the cupboard when you snuck into Wood's house - they belong to each of them.  
[That rattle belonged to a toy you hit. And you use it to rattle right in their ears and cause even more pain, and it's not yours to use like that.]_  
  
He looked down at it. It was small and red, and just his size. But the big bear had said it was his rattle. And he hadn't given it back to the bear, he'd just run away with it, thinking it was his because he found it...  
But it wasn't.  
  
Dolly was right, as she always was. He was a thief.  
"[Wood took it first,]" he tried to weakly explain to the mouse on his tail, but even he didn't believe it. Someone had owned that rattle and Sly had stolen it worse. He was a thief and someone who caused hurt, more hurt than any of the others. More hurt than even Wood.  
  
 _[You're not a good hero, Sly. You're a bad guy. Only bad guys hurt and steal and run away and don't put sparks into Dub when it'll be helpful, and you did all of that, and you've made him locked inside himself forever and everybody is going to hate you.]_  
The voice wasn't a mouse anymore, although it still looked like one. It sounded like his own.  
 _[Which is good because **I**  hate you. You horrid thing.]_  
  
He was done thinking. He didn't want to think anymore. It hurt and it made him feel awful inside and he didn't want anyone to see him as a horrid like this.  
He curled up tight around himself and ducked his head inside. Now he couldn't see his rattle, like that even helped, or the mouse, or his outside or self.  
He couldn't see the bad things he'd done.  
  
****  
  
When he brought himself back out, he was in the jungle again, near the river, and it was still rushing along at the fastest speed. A shape of the man that had got him here was in the water, and it looked as dangerous as before.  
The guilt of being a bad guy still rung in his head, and he wanted to stop it so much. He couldn't sit up on the land anymore. If he was going to keep it quiet, he had to go into the water, danger or no danger. It was the least he could do to make up for it.  
So he went into the water, which calmed down as soon as he went inside and arced across. No more splashing, just calm ripples, and he stopped in the middle to figure it out.  
Then it froze. It cracked around him and he was stuck and he couldn't move, and some bright lights came in the distance, and a thunk thunk thunk of bass beat and they bore down on him and he was going to get run over and the people in the van were calling his name and--  
  
"[Sly, what are you doing on the stairs?]"  
The river and white disappeared, and he was still inside himself. He must have fallen back asleep.  
"[You okay, snake boy? You look like a vortex hit you.]" The confusing-nice voice and the Snake Boy nickname didn't make him feel any better this time.  
  
"[Go away,]" he shouted to the two of them. "[I'm shameful and I can't be seen.]"  
"[Dammit, Sly, we can't afford to have  **you**  break down as well. Come on, get up.]"  
That third was Dolly, and he didn't want to be even more of a pain to Dolly, so he poked his head out from the bottom of his body. She was definitely there, with a kind of air of nervousness, he could taste it, and so was Ze-Sir, waving zer tail around like before, and Kroko too. They didn't look angry at him. They looked worried.  
The mouse was gone.  
  
He moved back and came out properly, though still coiled with his lower part. "[What are you doing here? I thought you'd all be mad at me.]"  
"[Nah, we're not mad,]" said Ze-Sir - Lyall. Ze had a name.  _[They all do.]_  "[Least I don't think so. We just wanted to ask you to go fetch a dog.]"  
  
"[Fetch a dog?]"  
Dolly cringed. "[Yeah. We couldn't just leave Dub sitting there when you left, we needed some way to get him up. So I managed to get the wolf out, but it - ze didn't scare me as much as ze did the first time.]"  
"[You say that like that's a bad thing, Doll.]" Ze cracked the same grin as ze had before, as ze always wore. "[You're getting used to me, admit it.]"  
"[Stop calling me that. So anyway, if nothing else would work, we thought we'd...]" A sigh. "[We have to go get me triggered. So if you can find a wagon or a wheelbarrow to cart Dub around in and we can go find the--]"  
  
"[No, Dolly!]" Sly interrupted before she could commit herself. "[I'm sorry, you don't have to do that. I'll do- I'll do it. I'll give Dub sparks.]"  
  
"[...Huh, that was a quick turnaround. Are you just saying that so you don't get in trouble?]"  
"[No no I'm not,]" he said. "[I deserve trouble, because I cause it, but I really want to help Dub. I have to.]"  
  
"[What made you change your mind, then?]" asked Kroko. "[Didn't you say that was bad?]"  
  
"[Not as bad as I've been, I've been sitting here and doing a lot of thinking and talking with the mice and it hurt but I had to move past that because I needed to hurt to see that I was hurting everybody else and Lilo has a pin and I gave him it and Dr Wood took items and I took items and Dolly was right before when we were at the table and I was too stupid to see it and she was good to call me an idiot because I'm an idiot and stupid and I'm not a heroic toy and  _I'm horrible and horrible and horrible and--!!_ ]"  
  
"[Sly Sly Sly  **Sly** , chill, calm down.]" Lyall stopped him from smashing by putting a paw on him. "[You're smushing your words and we can't get what you're saying.]"  
  
He felt the touch, and it helped him relax a bit, but not a lot. He cast his eyes around. He had to start again and make sure he was clear this time. He had to be certain  **certain**  that this came out right.  
  
"[...I - haven't been very - good - at heroes,]" he said carefully. "[I've been selfish, and I've rattled loudly with a taken rattle, and hit things more than I should. It does make me feel good to hit things, but it doesn't make you guys feel very good, specially if I don't own the thing I hit. And now I know that I've been hurting everybody when I shouldn't be, it makes me feel really sad inside, not happy like I want to be.]"  
His tongue quivered and he had to stop himself from unrailing, so he hiccupped.  
"[I mean is, I have to be a better hero. Better hero. Better hero. And... and helping Dub will help him, and it'll help me, and it'll help you guys because I won't be bad or an idiot or useless anymore. An-and it'll help him. Yes?]"  
  
They stared at him like he'd just said he was going to quit being colourful forever.  
"[...Um... am I making senses?]"  
  
Kroko let out a noise sort of like a garbled giggle and nodded. "[Yes, Sly, you're making senses.]"  
No one told him off. Kroko or the snake. That must have been a good sign.  
  
"[Okay. We need to go to Dub. We have to wake him up so everybody can be better and not hurt as bad,]" Sly made sure to declare extra firmly.  
He thought he heard Dolly mutter "[Don't you wish]", but he didn't say anything.  
  
\---------------  
  
Lilo had stayed with the turtle rock while Sly was breaking down and up again, and they hadn't moved at all when he returned to the yard garden without the shamed stolen rattle. The hippo was hovering his hand above the shell in what looked like a stroking motion but wasn't.  
"[Lilo?]" Sly called before he could forget. "[I'm sorry for giving you so much surprise electrics and hurting you so much. I'll try to be less painful next time, okay?]"  
He nodded in a half-shrug, and that was as much as Sly could get from him. At least a bit of his conscience was clear.  
It was time to wake Dub up.  
  
He moved into the grass. Snake in the grass. "[I'm ready, Dolly,]" he told the foggy sheep. Lyall had gone away after some struggling, and Kroko too, having lived through a bad memory enough already.  
"[Okay, go. Get a move, go.]"  
He started making sparks fast. Faster than he'd ever gone before, as many sparks as he could before he burst. Slithering and moving along and along, round and round, closer to the turtle, closer, sparking, closer.  
They bounced up him and pricked him and made him hurt. Other sparks hadn't done that, but he hadn't known he was bad in other sparks. In a way, he'd woken up twice. He was the waker-upper, the speed, the redeemer.  
  
When he could hold no more in him, when it was just too painful to keep spinning, he got extra close to Dub...  
"[I'm double sorry.]"  
...and put sparks into him.  
  
The crackle of the electricity went right through him, them, and Dub was flung up as he kept contact, into the air. His arms and legs and neck shot out and everything wove and trembled, even his mouth, but no cries of pain, endurance...  
He broke off, unable to watch. He was still a rock when he went back down.  
"[It didn't work.]"  
"[He needs more. Make some more, Sly.]"  
  
Repeating the cycle and circle. An old rhyme kicked off in his head, to be a distraction from the crackling.  
 _[Walking round the garden]_  to build up the static and voltage and amps.  
 _[Like a teddy bear]_  or a snake, to make up for what he'd done.  
 _[One step, two step,]_  one slither, one two three five hopes.  
 _[Tickle you under there.]_  
  
"[Still nothing.]"  
"[Try again!]"  
  
This time he went beyond the boundary point, held as much as he could and then tried to hold even more. It made him shake and pulse himself, darting behind his eyes, through his being, rattleless tail, thieving tail, bad tail.  
Was this how he made Lilo feel during blocks?  
Was this how he was making Dub feel now, with all the extra? One touch, really long and forever this time, making sure it didn't slip away, making sure he got every bit of it.  
  
He landed out of the rock this time, outstretched, eyes weary, really tired. But he didn't move.  
"[Dolly,]" he called, "[he's changed place but he isn't blinking or anything.]"  
"[Come on, how much can one toy need?! Keep going! We can't slack on this!]" she ordered, and he made to do so.  
  
"Stop."  
  
The word paused him. The word paused everybody, even if it was soft, because it came from the mouth of the now awake coughing turtle.  
Dub steadied his hands and managed to pull himself up, to sitting down, to existing again.  
  
Dolly went over to him, talking in that language he'd never known how to speak, and she didn't look sure how to feel what with the switching around between lightning and air and water. Sly didn't know how to feel either. He knew he'd helped. He'd started making up for the problems he'd caused.  
But Dub looked so sad. He didn't respond to Dolly, even when her voice went squeaky. And when he did, it was actually to everyone else. " _Es tut mer leid._ "  
  
"[Did it work?]" asked Kroko, timidly peeking over the wall between the garden and house with really wide eyes.  
"[Yes, Kroko. Dub's fine. He's just tired.]" The sheep moved away from them. "[We should get inside. We can give him time to re-calibrate and figure out what's going on.]" But she said it in a way that said she didn't really want to do anything today. This morning - lunchtime - whenever it was had been plenty exciting, in all the wrong ways.  
"[Good. Because... there's something I don't get,]" the reptile said. "[If Dub's over here, then why hasn't--]"  
"[Why hasn't Wood tried to get him back? I know, I'm wondering the same thing. Come on, Lilo, Sly, let's try to hash this out.]"  
  
The smart three - four - left the garden. Sly tried to go too, but he noticed Dub wasn't moving again. Staying behind, shivering in the sun.  
If everyone else could pardon him for being a bad... It was a two-way road.  
  
"[Hey, Dub?]"  
The turtle looked up at him.  
"[I'm sorry like you. And. And I forgive you too.]" Sly tried to smile.  
  
Dub only turned his head away.  
"[Don't.]"


	15. Inter Spem Et Metum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's important for you guys to read this, I'm gonna copy the LJ copy's author's note of this to here as well. 
> 
> I have a confession to make. I've put a lot of effort into this story so far to make it as accurate to Germany as possible; ie, making almost everyone speak German except when the situation requires English, and taking into account German laws, customs and traditions. Hell, that's why this was practically compelled to be a Christmas story: Germans really are only allowed to set off fireworks on New Year's Eve, and the desire for me as a writer to have the 'pivotal event #1' of chapter 13 take place around or near fireworks, and the symbolism that setting the story near that time slot would bring, outweighed the more logical route of making Dub's 'fantasy' be something else.
> 
> But keep in mind: I have never been to Germany in any capacity, so have not been to Sassnitz by extension. Indirect research can only get one so far, so I've had to take a few liberties with routes, directions, and placements of key buildings here and there; this is most egregious with the building that Dr Wood calls HQ. Hell, this problem, coupled with my dyscalculia in terms of length and time measurement, has actually spawned a potential future plot point for a potential sequel series. So I may get things seriously wrong about the particulars of the key location in this chapter and the next, specifically with regard to the exterior, look and layout of Tierpark Sassnitz. Please be lenient as you call me out on this! I've tried my best to reconstruct it with the details I have been given online.
> 
> Also, please feel free to check out the [A Posse Ad Esse TV Tropes page](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/APosseAdEsse) I made about a year back! It can always use some more fleshing out.
> 
>  **Chapter theme** :  restriction  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Water - Matt Cardle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3y8HkqEe-w)

Kroko couldn't help but feel that he should have been a lot happier than he was.  
Oh, he was happy on its own, that was for sure. He had plenty of things to give him comfort when he got distressed these days. He had the blanket to cuddle up to, even if it was getting smelly from all the leaving in the sun and the road scratchings. He could fly, and feel the wind, and reach heights the others couldn't. He had the flute in his pocket and the songs in his head; though he only knew how to play one off by heart, he could sometimes hear snatches of the words of another, from somewhere outside.  
The last time he had felt this pleased with himself, he hadn't known about the institution.  
  
But there were plenty of things to be sad about too, that dented his good mood. He could feel them in the air, all over the house and in that he breathed. He could see them in every corner and by every wall.  
  
Dolly was talking to Lilo by one of the latter. "[I'm just saying, I don't like it. Two days in a row without an attack from Wood?]" she said in a cold breeze.  
Lilo tapped a word he'd written on the painted surface with the lid of his pen: [LOCATION].  
"[Yeah, he doesn't know where we are, I get that. But - not trying to lure us out or anything? He never leaves things alone for this long. Something's going on, and I don't know what it is. It's irritating.]"  
Tap tap, at Kroko, the nicely-drawn version of him with the big eyes.  
"[I know, I know, I really should send him back on patrol. But every time I let someone head out on their own, they go missing for the best part of an evening. What if I try it again and he never--]"  
  
She spotted him looking at her, and tried to block him out of the conversation by moving closer to Lilo and talking quieter. But Kroko sort of got what she meant. She didn't want him to run away like before.  
His friend (at least he hoped she thought they were friends) was pretty confusing in that regard. Sometimes she wanted to make sure they were all safe, himself especially, more than hurt Dr Wood. She'd been the one to say sorry this time, for dredging up those horrible first few days with Spieler, and she'd sat as close as she could to him when it was all done until he'd felt better. Which was lovely.  
But she hadn't actually called him [sweetie]. Why did he feel bad about that?  
  
He took off to get away from it, heading to the kitchen. Maybe things would be happier in there, less confusing, less...  
 _[Oh dear.]_  
Or maybe not. When he landed, Dub was in the hole in the corner. He'd been there since earlier this morning, hiding from everyone else. He was trying to raise his arms very carefully and slowly to the top edge of the hole to drag himself out, but he couldn't reach it. He would get almost there, and flop back down.  
He looked at Kroko pleadingly. Dub had been very loud before, mostly talking to Dolly at the top of his voice. Even at meetings, he'd had something to say, imposing on everything; 'etwas tun' came to mind. But now he was so... small, there was no other way to describe it. Like he hadn't come out all the way, from the hole or from the ball or from anything.  
  
Being put back in the box - no, the box had nothing to do with it, Dolly said so so it had to be right - it hadn't fixed him on the inside.  
 _[I'm sorry, Dub...]_  
Kroko reached out a hand for him to grab and gently levered him out of there. Not that it made any difference. As soon as he came into the light of day, he just fell on the ground and didn't do anything but stare down at it.  
  
Having done what of his bit he could, the eagle went back into the living room. There was nowhere else to go from where he'd been, and no way of escaping any of the upset moods either. Dub was sad, and Lilo and Dolly were sad.  
More to the point, Dolly and Sly were sad. She'd wandered away from the drawing bit and was now trying to tell the snake for what they said was the hundredth time (though it was more like the sixteenth, really) that he couldn't go return the rattle he'd taken from Wood's home to its actual owner.  
  
Too much worry and guilt and fear of the rising unknown, all festering... He had to find a way to  _get out_.  
  
"[But Dolly, I feel horrible for taking.]"  
"[I know, and I'm glad you've finally got yourself a conscience,]" Dolly sighed, not sounding glad at all, "[but you can't just go barging up to Wood thrusting a rattle in his face.]"  
"[Why not?]" Sly asked, tilting his head. "[Will it hurt him bad?]"  
"[It'll hurt  **us**. He's planning something, I can tell that much, and for all we know you could be leading us right into a trap.]"  
  
"[But that's the prob- problem point-lem. He's setting up the plan because one of them's looking really hard for his rattle right now because I'm horrid. If I take the rattle back, then he won't think we're enemies anymore and he'll leave us alone and then we can be good enough for the red capes.]"  
  
Kroko tried his best, really he did. But even after taking into account that Sly made no sense at the happiest or the worst times, he simply could not put together what that meant.  
The sheep never got as far as trying. "[Sly - how can you be so coherent one second and so - so  **not**  the next?]"  
"[Because the spiders,]  _duh_ ," said Sly in a 'should have been obvious' sort of way, which somehow made even less--  
  
[Spiders]? Spinnen?  
 _Spinne!_  
  
Kroko felt a rush of relief move from the bottom to the top of his stomach. With all of the bad things that had happened over the past few days, he'd almost forgotten that he had to give the flute back to Spinne. The friendly monkey he'd found a few houses across wouldn't be as miserable with any luck: if he was, he'd be better once Kroko returned the good deed (and the instrument); if he wasn't, it'd still be an escape from the dark cloud hanging over the stuffed toys.  
He knew the full song and the fragments so well by now that he didn't need to hold it in his hand to shake off those watching him. He could just sing it in his head and imagine the place attached to it, picture sand dunes, sun, a culture so different from this winter Germany. Drawings on the walls like here, birds and crocodiles, all he was and had to be. ...at least, tried to be...  
  
Anyway, if Sly had to give things back, so did he. Leading by example and stuff.  
  
He decided to let her know his idea before she could start fighting with Sly again. "[Dolly, can I go out real quick?]"  
"[Where? Are you going to--]"  
"[No, nowhere dangerous!]" he interrupted. "[I just want to give the flute back to where I found it. It's really close by. And I promise I'll come straight back.]"  
Her wind dropped, but nothing else about her mood. "[Oh. You heard that, huh?]" she said, embarrassed.  
"[You said it right in front of me.]"  
"[Crap. Okay, go ahead.]"  
  
After slightly re-adjusting his blanket so it'd be more comfortable when he did return, Kroko sped out of the opening door and took to the skies. He didn't need to, it was running distance, but why use his feet when he could spread his wings?  
Veering to the left, looking for the right one with a sharpening focus. What brought him there before was the very same song, but what else could he remember about it? A drain pipe running up the outside, and curtains on the upstairs window. White ones, thin ones that caught the light in the evening...  
He looked up at each higher floor as he flew, checking every detail. Blue curtains, like the sky or a pond. No curtains at all, blinds instead. White ones, but thicker, etched with flowers. Then - yes, those ones, drawn back, but glass closed.  
Kroko landed on the notch holding the pipe to the wall, and climbed his way up, his claws digging into the cold-ish plastic, but not too hard. A single accidental nick, no matter how soft the trigger, would make the water inside burst out, all over...  _[no no no get off!]_  He leapt from that to the windowsill as fast as possible.  
  
Even when just near enough to hear anything resembling people inside, he could tell something was wrong here too. He caught troubled voices, not in the room itself but outside in the hall; they were talking about something hard to work out, but sounding so lost.  
After a quick jump and a lot of messing about with the handle, he managed to jiggle the panel ajar to get the words clearer.  
  
"[--where is he?]"  
"[I don't know, I've looked everywhere in the house for him. You haven't left him in your school bag?]"  
"[Where is he?!]" This speaker was a boy, very young, while the other was older and more kind.  
"[That's a no, then. I'm sorry, Felix, but if we can't find him, we'll have to get you another one.]"  
"[No no no!]" Felix screamed, and something made a thud.  
"[Felix, don't hit the wall. It's unfortunate, but--]"  
"[I want him back, where's he? Where's he, Mummy?]"  
  
Kroko stayed on that sill just long enough to find out what, exactly, was gone. When he did, all good feeling he'd held on to, for a few minutes, faded away into fright.  
 _[No, it wouldn't,]_  his thoughts tried to explain and reassure,  _[he can't, that's not right. He wouldn't just leave Felix like that - unless - ]_  
Unless one of the swarm of worse case scenarios buzzing around him now was terribly true.  
  
Faced with something he couldn't flee, no matter how high he tried to go, he closed the window again and dived, Felix's last faltering cry pushing him forward.  
  
"[Where's Spinne?!  **Where's Spinne?!** ]"  
  
\---------------  
  
"[...honestly telling me that the mice and the bugs are-- Oh, you back already, Kroko?]"  
"[Only for a bit, sorry. The toy who I borrowed it from's gone missing, his boy's really upset, I have to go look for him,]" a Kroko on the verge of panicking told Dolly, not leaving the doorway.  
"[Good. I was gonna ask if you could check on Wood after all now that... you...]" Her wool spiked and crinkled as she realized the same thing he did. "[Shit, you don't think he--]" She cut herself off.  
"[I hope he hasn't. But if he has, it might as well be me that finds out.]"  
  
"[All right. Be careful. If you get into something you can't talk your way out of, get out of there,]" she warned. "[I don't want anyone else getting hurt.]"  
He nodded, but the flute pricked the inside of him too hard to agree.  
  
Which reminded him... "[Hey Sly? Do you want me to give the rattle back while I'm looking for Dr Wood?]"  
Sly, who'd been etching shapes in the carpet with the pointy end, now drew it close to him, pupils going wide. "[Noooo! Don't take it, it'll be bad!]"  
"[But I thought you said--]"  
"[It won't be a good sorry coming from you!  **I've**  got to return it or I'll be called an even more bad guy than I am before!]" he protested.  
Kroko laughed to cover up nervousness - "[You're a funny thing, Sly!]" - before once again flying away from their base.  
  
 _[Okay - if I was a bird with... Well, I'm already a bird. But if I was more of a raven with bad ideas, where would I be?]_  
He'd be at his HQ, of course. It was getting to the point where he knew the route by heart, having flown there three times already. Left, straight ahead, right, left, across...  
In and out of the various gardens lining the way, just in case. The yorkie with the black nose wasn't at the fork in the road.  _[Oh no, is he missing too?!]_  a part of him shrieked, but he wasn't looking for dogs, he was looking for birds and monkeys. Besides, he was probably indoors and sleepy, that was all.  
  
He reached the big building at last, but he couldn't get too close to it, because everyone was looking out of the windows of the rooms. He darted his eyes across all of them, ready for any sign of blue stripes, but they didn't appear in any of the openings. A rabbit with a foot missing (he stared closer at the seam, the tear marks looked fresh) and a giant bear (or maybe the other giant bear, there were a few there now) were at the doorway, guarding and locking it. When he saw Kroko trying to sneak over the limit and search thoroughly, the rabbit yelled out "[INTRUDER INCOMING! ATTACK!]" and he had to dash away before they could catch up with him.  
Wood couldn't have been in the house, or he would have led the other toys himself. That meant he had to be somewhere in the town. Maybe Spinne still had a chance, maybe he wasn't too late...  
  
He had to look more indepth everywhere else. Beyond the houses, in holes in the ground, in toy stores, everywhere. And to do it all, he had to keep flapping and flying.  
It came easily to him now - more so than walking or crawling or hiding in boxes ever had. Going heel-to-ground was too flat, singular; he could only move forward and back and turn. But the air was much bigger, the sky surrounding him from all directions. Up, down, around. It was like he'd been an eagle (or a sparrow, sometimes, when he wasn't as brave as this) from the very start. Like he was never meant to enjoy the water in the first place, no matter how much Dr Kindermann had said so.  
 _[If only that were true...]_  
  
No, he couldn't think of the stark dark seas. Flying like this brought his good mood back up, rising along with his body. Water couldn't ruin it.  
The wind worked with and against him, keeping him alight, moving him sometimes the right way, sometimes wrong. It flitted between gentle and strong, a single wisp making so much difference in which way he fluttered. Wings arching back, caressing forward, stitching bending but never breaking, digits splayed.  
The roads and houses moved in a stretch and a wake, passing by in red and grey lines at the sides. The few humans he skimmed over looked stretched and distorted from up here, primarily blends of yellow and red and brown and, a couple of times, a bright pink bobble hat. He spied drains, and grass, and fractals in the tarmac. Further up, he found beams of sun seeping through, blinding and dazzling.  
Once, he passed another bird like him. It was a pigeon, a real one, that cooed at him as they raced side by side. It wanted to test him. It dropped to the ground, pinions folded in, pulled back at the last second. Kroko tried to do the same, do so much more, spinning and circling, darting into the air, making it all his, soaring tumbling free-wheeli--  
  
but he couldn't stop flapping without losing his control and crash-landing right on his nose, tail nose tail nose again.  _[Oww oww oww.]_  As he tried to pull himself together and nurse this latest in a long line of bumps and grazes, he could have sworn he heard the pigeon laughing at him, from much higher up in the air. From safety.  
  
Kroko got back on his pads, shaking himself. It always did this. He flew away from the sads and tried to reach skyward, touch his dreams and hear the songs more clearly, but something - Dr Wood or Dolly or anything else - brought him back down. He didn't have freedom in the honest sense; the air had invisible lines that he just couldn't cross, especially if his arms locked up at the sound of a droplet.  
Nobody else had limits quite as tight as his. He could go higher than them, but they could do a lot more. Wood, whether he was a doctor or not, was a bird who couldn't fly like him, but he could ground the others...  
  
Still, for all its closing in, flying was one of the most soothing bits of his life right now. He'd managed to lose himself and forget about the upsetting things lingering in the past and the future, if only for a minute or two. He'd put his mind at ease.  
And if what he prayed hadn't happened had happened, he'd need this calm more than anything else in this world.  
  
He steadied himself and moved up into the space again.  _[I've got to keep looking.]_  
  
Over and over and over the town. Retracing steps they'd taken before, going into places they'd never been. Dr Wood didn't go to the same areas twice, it wouldn't make sense.  
But then, after all that looking, he found himself near the place the banner had been, just on the outside. That meant he was close to hom- their house, and he hadn't found head or tail of Spinne, or the raven. That made the inevitable more so by the passing second...  
In despair, he sped along the street to the right, the only spot he hadn't searched yet, close to the ground. The flute rattled and rolled in his pocket. If he couldn't get anywhere with this, he'd have to go back and disappoint Dolly again. He was already cringing slightly at his possible foolishness.  
  
This only got worse when he found the place at the end of the next bend. A really big car park, only a few cars at the far end, and an arched entrance to something. He focused, reading the sign, signs, it bore.  
[TIERPARK SASSNITZ] was in the largest writing, up top. On a separate sticky-taped sheet on a door, [RE-OPENS 3 JANUARY 10.00 TO 16.00 HOUR].  
A slightly ajar door.  
  
Was Dr Wood in there? He had to be; he hadn't been anywhere else. But what would he have to do in a zoo that wasn't open yet? There wouldn't even be any animals around.  
The eagle-crocodile didn't have much choice but to go inside and find out. So he half-flew half-crawled across the white lines and, when he got to the gap, slipped through it.  
  
The very first thing he saw was water,  _[no no not again]_  - he had to stop himself from going straight back out with sheer force of will. It was a lake, vast and long, with swans skirting over the shimmering surface, feathers ruffling.  
He crept around it, further inside, unable to look away from it. It stretched out like it went on forever, but it had to end at some point because on the other side was a tall cage-thing with a big tree. He backed away, in both awe and anxiety, only stopping when he found himself stepping on the loose bark that made up a playground floor.  
It was safe to go forward now, so he stealthed across the ground, up to a wide open grass patch, with a shed standing firm - that must have been where they kept and fed horses. The path split behind him when he turned around, leading to little enclosures, more wandering spots, occasionally people coming in and out with pitchforks and sacks in their hands. The playground itself was completely empty, no movement except the gently rocking swings in the breeze.  
  
Then, by the toilets, he saw shadows, tiny ones. Twitches and flailing arms. Could they be...?  
For the second (third) time today, he moved in to eavesdrop. Maybe he was better at being sneaky than everyone thought he was.  
  
"...[but they know where  **we**  are. If you think about it, it makes sense.]"  
"[I have, and most of it does. It's just irritating that this one piece isn't in place yet. You're sure he knows about it?]"  
First voice male, one he was pretty sure he'd heard before. It was the ferret, Han, Wood had called him. The second he couldn't put a face to, but was a girl for sure.  
"[Of course he does,]" said Han. "[I heard Leader tell him myself. He's gonna come for it eventually, but we can't push him. Otherwise he'll lose that trust.]"  
Did that mean Spinne was neither with Felix nor here, but in between? Somewhere even his clever eyes hadn't seen?  _[Please let him be safe.]_  
  
"[God, how long has he been in there?]" the higher one groused. "[It can't take that long to figure--]"  
"[Kosmos, this is the fifth time you've asked this, and the answer's still "he'll be out when he's ready".]"  
"[I'm just saying, this shouldn't be taking as long as it is. He's leaving us wide open; one of 'them' could sneak up on us any minute.]"  
  
Kroko paused in his tracks, curling his claws inside automatically. He counted the shadows to keep his breath held; one, two, three, four.  
"[Don't you know to trust Leader by now? He's just making sure tomorrow goes off without a hitch. All we've got to do right now is shut our mouths and keep guard.]"  
"[We're still the only ones that know about this, right?]" asked a third toy. Deeper than the rest, sounded like a bear. Wood had a lot of those, so that didn't narrow it down.  
  
"[You three are, anyway.]"  
Voice four. A toy Kroko had  **definitely**  heard before.  _[No no no it can't be!]_  his thoughts lied, like he hadn't been openly fearing this.  
"[You say that like that's a good thing.]"  
He had to check, see it for himself. He moved as close as he dared to the wall, poked his head around...  
  
"[It is but it isn't, if you get me. It means I don't have to toss around at night like you do, wondering if he can pull this off,]" said Spinne.  
  
Kroko gasped before he could stop himself.  
  
This couldn't have been a worse time. They saw him immediately, tensed up, especially the small plastic dog. "[I presume it means  _that_  doesn't happen too?]"  
"[Get him!]" shouted Han, trying to stop himself arcing his back, all torn up. "[He can't get in the way!]"  
  
"[Spinne, what--?!]" the crocodile tried to cry, but he was pushed out by the bear too fast, his words dislodged, his tail stomped on. He had to do something, he had to get Spinne back to his boy, he had to be careful, he had to talk, but how could he do any of that?!  
Talk, he latched to talking. He was okay at reasoning sometimes. Maybe that'd work. He flew up as soon as he had the chance, slipped under their feet and out of their hands, until he got back to the monkey.  
  
"[Oh, hey Kroko. Didn't expect to see you again.]" How could Spinne be so casual about this? "[Well, I did, you said you'd come back, but - guess you didn't know I'd be here, you know? How'd you know these guys?]"  
"[ _What are you doing?!_  You have to get back home!]"  
"[No I don't. If I had to be home, I'd actually be - ]" He stopped listening because he had to dodge the ferret and bear again, zooming up, floating back further away, waiting for him to come and call after him. "[Oi, don't run off when I'm talking to you! That's what I came here to avoid!]"  
  
"[Spinne, you weren't supposed - ]" he stumbled over his words while he got back on the ground - "[you should be with Felix right now! He really misses you!]"  
"[Not enough to take me outside. At all. Ever. You really should have told me about Wood's lot when you came before! I've never seen so many toys in one place!]" Was he bitter or sad or happy now? How did he feel?  
Couldn't tell, too worried, scared. It blotted everything else out.  _[Please, please don't talk like this!]_  his mind called out, but his mouth was too dry to say it.  
"[He's a bit like you, you know. He actually talks to me, listens, tells me about what's going on in the world, helps me. I don't even have a problem per se and he still took me in to heal like the others! Oh, which reminds me...]"  
  
A knitted hand reached out, darted into his pocket, came out holding the flute  **his**  flute, pausing his scuttling.  
"[I've still got to pay him for that.]"  
  
"[No!]" He tried to grab it away, pull it close, but it was tossed to the dog, had to move back constantly being pushed back had to keep talking  _[fly away]_...  
"[Come on, you were gonna give it back anyway.]"  
"[Yes but to  **you**  not to Wood not like this not here!!]"  
Spinne's face twisted to concern, or confusion, maybe both. "[Kroko, seriously, why are you so distressed? Wood does do a good job taking care of us. And look - I've got friends. These people like me. They wanna hang out with me and take me places. Is that so bad?]"  
"[Yes it IS this is bad this is  _wrong_  this is--]"  
  
His back legs slipped, he had to steady himself, he looked back. The advancing enemies had pushed him up to a metal fence, on a downward slope, near the -  
"[WATER!]" He'd almost fallen through the gap into the pond with the swans in it. He heard Han calling out "[Well done, Spinne, that's good!]" from a distance.  
 _[You can't talk him out of this, fly away, get away.]_  He had to go, he couldn't be here, but his wings didn't move, they just wouldn't flap, locking up again. The water couldn't be fake. He couldn't, he had to but he couldn't. Couldn't get the flute, couldn't go, couldn't rescue Spinne...  
  
"[Felix wants you back home,]" he pleaded again, trying to hide the trembling in his words. "[You're going to get hurt, Wood's not good for you, you have to go home.]"  
"[Wood's been pretty good to me so far. And no offense to Felix, he's a good kid, but I've got nothing with him that I can't get here. Less than nothing. So what can you do?]"  
  
What COULD he do? Nothing, pressed up up up against the metal bars. His flight didn't work, he didn't have the flute to calm him, he didn't have the blanket to calm him, "[Kroko, dude, talk to me,]" he had to stop this he had to get Spinne to see what to do  _what to do what to do_  and his eyes shut in darkness and his lungs working overtime and everything in him told him to get away and go "[you all right Kroko]" and he'd fall and they were closer and closer and he couldn't take this anymore -  
  
" _YAAAH!_ "  
\- and he felt something tear with ease against the tips of his talons.  
  
"Oww! Fff-..."  
He opened up. They'd all gone back. Spinne was on the ground, tumbled. His arm had been ripped, just at the seam, only attached to his shoulder by a few threads and a pressed hand. He glanced down; strands had gotten caught in his right claws.  
  
Strands. Short blue and green strands. From the monkey, on his hand.  
He'd hurt him.  
  
"[I - I - I'm sorry - I - ]" he choked ineffectually.  
"Ahk-- [Kroko, what the hell?]" He'd hurt Spinne, he'd caused this, he'd caused this...  
  
 _[GET OUT OF THERE.]_  
  
With nothing else to do or say, he got out as fast and as far as he could.  
  
\---------------  
  
Back on the other side of the zoo gate, out in the open, cold town, darkening town. In a corner, a hole, on the ground. Alone.  
After about a minute of trying to delay it, Kroko looked at his claws. They still had the fibres, so he picked them off in disgusted fright. Some of them wouldn't let go, turning him numb with the sight and texture. He put one of his hands in his mouth and tried to bite them off, but they scratched and tore inside of him and caused more wincing pain.  
  
He hadn't bitten his nails in ages.  
  
He hadn't torn someone with these in ages either - or ever. He didn't know he could. Had they gotten sharper because of the bright light? He'd only found out now, if they had.  
Because he'd hurt Spinne. He'd hurt and he'd tried so hard not to hurt anyone, to talk and be good, but he'd hurt someone and now it'd stay with him, even if the wool was gone.  
  
He had to go back to the others. Spinne was with the Claw Association, and he couldn't get him away right now. And Wood had done, was doing, something in the zoo. Something was going to happen. Probably soon. He had to tell Dolly so they all knew. She'd be horrified at what he did, he bet.  
It was a bit of a victory, taking away what he'd learned. But it felt hollow.  
  
He moved slowly across the ground, through the streets. He only walked, he felt too sick in his soul to run.  
A piece of him told him he had to hurry, though, so he began to fly. But there was no joy in it. He'd damaged too much, and he couldn't appreciate the wide open winds as much as he had before. He dropped back down roughly, belly-first.  
No click of the flute caught between.  
  
The flute belonged to Spinne, not to Wood. Why did he take everybody's special things away? Taking flutes, taking rattles, a lot if what Sly said was anything to go by.  
What else? His once-companion had mentioned healing. He hadn't needed it. He had to give the flute to him anyway.  
 _[You don't take something without giving something...]_  
But neither monkey nor reptile had gotten anything. Was this significant?  
  
He tried to get physical and mental bearings, noticing he was in front of another window as a result. A store was there, full of clothes big and small, and his face, body, being, was reflected on the glass. Red galoshes were on a stand, propped up to look pretty, and they showed through the ghostly image.  
Right in the pocket of his other self. Not in his own, empty one.  
  
Something in him jolted at the parallel. The blanket had not been enough to take his fear away forever. The flute had not been enough. But something once had. Otherwise, why would the pocket exist?  
He'd been whole once, better, happy, not so afraid. And now...  
"[Something's missing.]"  
And he had to get it back, or he would never be truly free.  
  
But not today. He had to make sure Dolly didn't worry about him again. He had to explain and apologise and expand on the half-formed thoughts he'd just had. That'd help.  
Kroko took a few deep breaths, ignored the now obvious emptiness, moved upwards into the air once more, and went home.


	16. Verba Volant, Scripta Manent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This chapter took two years._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapter theme** :  undoing  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Smoke and Mirrors - Gotye](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwXh8h5jivg)

There were three funny things about plans that he really ought to have considered before diving into creating one. Though there would no doubt be more coming up, for now, three would do.

First: It only takes one person to set them off. Sometimes not even that; just an action, a wrong word, a sliver of information. Of course, it was all four of these in this case, and the person was actually a stuffed crocodile doing what he did best for the heinous 'crime' of self-defense and espionage, but was Lilo really in any position to argue semantics?  
Second: After that seed, their ferns spiral faster than a snake on a good day. Kroko had gotten home, explained the situation while wringing his hands, and after a brief rummage, Lilo's latest pen was working overtime to get all the information on a new wall, opposite the one he'd been using hitherto. Everyone chipped in using that stimulus, finding links between what they'd known already from experience and exploration, what they'd just worked out, and what they were unaware of not being aware of... While the latter, admittedly, had only happened once, it had raised Dolly's temperature for a good while, starting from a shouted "[Son of a bitch, he  **knew!** ]" and mostly appearing through glares shot at the turtle in the corner after that.

Third: Inevitably these plans get completed, all roles assigned, and the countdown to Phase One started, before their creator themselves is fully prepared for it. The side effect of that is an ever-niggling worry that, actually, it might all be destined to crumple, and crumple hard.

That was the position the hippo found himself in today, waiting for an unseen signal from the gap between front door and frame. Only one of the five - six - was actually outside, to estimate what time it was. They were getting close to initiation point now, he could sense it; the shadows on the ground veered to his east, south-east, as the sun rested off-kilter in the sky. Their own general direction was set by memory and road, following those trails of black. He knew what he had to do, and given how much his sore hand had transcribed, he was sure that aspect wouldn't be a problem.  
Everyone else had promised to be reliable too. They'd gone over this a dozen times to make sure they held by that as best as possible, step by first vague then cemented step. He'd sketched his individual letters in the air late at night to memorize the shapes of his actions, so vital chunks of it wouldn't slip away. (Unlike other memories. Why was it that sometimes fundamental mathematical laws came to him, but not the identity of Rose? The mind had strange priorities.)

So it made no sense that the fear of failing wouldn't leave him alone. The fear of the pin coming loose and the shaking starting once more, perhaps, but that had been there since... His muzzle stung with that particular threat, so he held onto its fastener to re-secure it. Losing that definitely wouldn't help the -

God, he had to focus! He physically jostled his brain into shape. If they just stuck with what they were supposed to do, they'd be fine. Granted, with certain toys that was no guarantee, and he had no backup measures if they fell through.  
But if he didn't tell himself he could succeed despite this, then Wood would win with his own scheme before theirs got off the ground.  
Ergo, they would be  **fine**. They had to be.

"...drei, zwei, eins... [Okay, now. I think.]"  
Kroko's voice coming from beneath them let him know it was too late to retract that statement. The time was right, and Phase One of  _Betriebsstillstand_  was go.

Body by body, the others stepped out of the door, taking only what they needed to. He himself held a spare marker (temporary, he hoped) in one hand, banking on the thought that this time he wouldn't need his puzzle. Sly carried someone else's maraca, and Dolly, an air of authority completely at odds with what had been arranged.

"[All right, everyone know what they're doing?]" They all confirmed their readiness, but she pressed on: "[I still want to run through who's got what again, just to be sure. Kroko, you're going to get your group over to the zoo, right?]"  
"[Yeah, and talk about what happens with the stuff.]"  
"[That too. Lilo, you're going to rile him up like we talked about?]"  
He gave her a tentative thumbs up with his free hand.  
"[Great. D- I'm gonna set Sly on his way, then take Lyall over to you guys. Then ze can get the jump on him when he's really pissed off.]"  
Exactl-- what?

Kroko was just as confused as he was: "[Um, no. No, you've got to go  **with**  Sly. He can't get there all by himself and tak--]"  
"[Sure he can! He's kinda smart when he wants to be, I'm sure he'll be fine,]" she insisted, skulking to his general area. "[Besides, ze was just saying ze wanted to get out there and do something. Why not this? I mean, it's not like I've gotten any since we resc--  _Shit_ , I mean, wait--!]"

Whatever she was going to backtrack on got cut off by Sly hastily jangling her tail around, having to temporarily drop the rattle in the process. Was this another of his misguided attempts to 'be helpfulness'? He'd been indulging in a lot of those in the past two days, often without prompting (his own back still hurt from the last one).  
Then the sheep blinked a few times as if seeing the world anew, she growled "[Lyall]", and Lilo understood. "[We'll have to find some kind of safeguard for that when we get back. All right, let's move! Meet you there, boys.]"

On that bizarre note, the group split. Dolly and Sly took off towards the centre of town; Kroko flew the opposite way to mark the path for the rest of them. He had to take as large strides as possible to keep up at first, but that left plenty of time for more conflicts to slip through the cracks. Doubts on every left step, rebuttals to the right.

Con: What were the odds of being able to pull this off, given how much Wood had pushed them back?  
Pro: Until he tried, those odds would be null.  
Con: Even the most minor of players had a lot to remember. If he had trouble doing so without aid, what chance would they have?  
Pro: The others had surprised not just him, but themselves before. There was no reason not to believe they could do it.  
Con: Again, if someone like Dub didn't do his bit exactly as dicta--

...Con: Where  **was**  Dub?  
Automatically he looked ahead for him, but he was nowhere near Kroko in flight. Far from it: turning around found him quite a way back, staring at the ground and taking what looked like slow, heavy breaths. Another recent change in demeanour...  
Unable to help rolling his eyes, he took a detour to go back and push him forward. This was no time for anyone, regardless of prominence, to sit around feeling sorry for themselves.

They had a sermon to crash.

\---------------

A new funny thing about counter-attacks: When it's said there's "no time for something", more often than not there's actually time to kill. The three scouter toys found that out when they reached the wide-open gate of Tierpark Sassnitz exactly half an hour earlier than closing time - or so said the first real clock they'd all seen for what felt like absolutely ages - and not the few minutes before he'd initially predicted.  
Was that due to bad timing on their part, or the journey itself? It felt like they'd only been walking for about fifteen...

But he didn't have the need to dwell on it, or the room for that matter. From just below the sky to the ground, the place was lousy with excited children, weary caretakers, animals, and just  _life_  in general; some making the most of their last few days of freedom before the call of duty, and some themselves having to answer to that call. If only, he half-reflected as a cart full of what looked like cat food nearly flattened him under wheel, they could do so while watching their step. Someone could get seriously hurt or lost, with as many beings as this in one place.

Talking of hurt, Kroko was trying to ignore the giant swan pond just across the way; they had to get going before he started freaking out and/or apologizing again. Lilo tamped down any further fears and cast an eye around for anyone who could lead them to their next stop. The reptile hadn't found it himself yesterday, so this bit needed to be played by ear. Or between-and-below-ears.  
A stationary balloon seller? Chance would be a fine thing. Mother and baby on a bench, no; man with dustpan and broom, no; someone crying over something, definitely not...  
Then, from everywhere at once, a gaggle of laughter and lion-shaped backpacks barely missed them to run past the horse enclosure; he looked back to find three older individuals trying to catch up. Presumably the last leg of a group outing... That would put them on the right track for sure. He grabbed Dub again preemptively and set off behind them.

This phase, truth be told, was relying more on common sense than on anything anyone had found or extrapolated. Kroko had only seen a fraction of the place, so in that regard their hands (or what passed for hands for each of them) were tied. Guesswork factored as well. If there was more than one and they'd misguidedly gone to the smaller, it would be too late by the time they realized their mistake, and then - he dreaded to think.  
So it was with only partial relief, mostly determination, that the collective finally led them to the hopefully-hub of the matter: a relatively small, painted-guinea-pig-laden gift shop.

Getting in was easy, because the door was wide open to let as many customers in as possible, not that the floor was at full capacity at the moment. The walls were, however, with shelves upon shelves of red and blue and green and white T-shirts with apparent animal motifs, hats in the same style, glass sculptures for the connoisseur, and - most vitally - a circular section just for cuddly toys of every creature a zoo could possibly have, and more besides. There was even a two-tiered platform facing those curved walls, half-stocked. If it would happen anywhere, it would happen there.  
This time, Kroko became responsible for getting the turtle where he needed to be, which was to say, hidden amongst the myriad of toys on one of the shelves; Lilo had a more important place to narrow down. Ideally, one higher up, so that he could see what was happening on that table, and close to something he could use that numbing marker on, one word at a time.  
As luck would have it, he found that very spot after a minute of glancing around the enclosure: a placemat-sized white board with warthog motifs on it, resting on a crate against a wall and advertising a First Day Discount or something. He charged over, clamboured up, crawled underneath its slope with some struggling. It could stand to be larger, but he could see clearly if he poked his head out, and judging by the dried ink grains clustering on his left arm, it was double-sided to boot. This would be useful.

All that remained, for now, was to wait.

And so they did. Time ticked on, audible for once. People whirled across the shop, from one end of the display to the other to back again to the cash register presumably out of his sight. Wood didn't show, nor did any of his entourage.

Even blending in wasn't without its dangers. At one point, under the thrum of external speech, he heard a rustle and someone saying "[Ooh, Mum Mum, can I have this one with the pink bits?]" and what had once been passing stood still. Images threatened of one of them hurled into a plastic bag kicking and screaming, cut off from the group by monetary exchange, and oh hell was that a heart attack coming or was he just panicking?!  
"[That one doesn't have a price tag, Rolf. Someone must've left it here by mistake.]"  
There was a groan (of irritation or pity?) and, fortune of fortunes, Kroko was placed back in view, fleeing from the human hands and nearly squashing him under the board almost immediately. That helped ease things substantially, and once the threat had passed, he wasted no time in gesturing for him to get back into the crowd, no matter his protestations that what if it happened again and he didn't have that much to do and someone said there were sheep here he just wanted to see them once.  
Better Kroko in the seething masses than him.

But by the second, even as he thought that, those crowds thinned. The din dropped in volume, falteringly but consistently so. More went than came, going, going... until even the attendants were leaving the almost empty shop to its unknown fate. Lilo had to twist around to make his gaze follow their oblivious selves, and the cashier drawers they held, to the door, through, and out, one of them locking it firmly behind them with a treacherous click.  
His mind buzzed again. It seemed as though, from the sheer amounts that had rushed in, this was definitely the only place suitable for Wood to enact his own scheme. But had he accounted for being shut out? And if he hadn't, more importantly, how would  **they**? Last night, Lyall had suggested trying to '[bust open a window]' should it come to it, but would even ze be able to shatter glass like-?

Shick.  
The unexpected glitch in the descending noiselessness led his worries back to the door. It replayed, harsh against his ears, but he couldn't quite make out - unless -  
Was that a  _card_  being slid through the gap between the edges, around the handle area? He was sure it was. It couldn't have been anything else, based on the jagged motions it was making.  
Eventually, it pushed further through, and the door swung inward, gingerly at first, then wider. The makeshift key clattered down, striped with blue and white, from a wing that was very distinctively black.

Wood was here.

The atmosphere seemed to tighten around everyone, though that might have been his imagination reacting. He quickly pulled his head back and curled up as small as he possibly could; the marker dug into his side, but he'd cope with it to avoid being seen at this critical stage.  
Seconds after a soft thump, he heard the enemy cross the floor as if it were his own, followed by the footstep-din of the approaching Claw Association. As a matter of fact, from the heads he could make out from this far back, it was very nearly the  **entire**  Association. Rabbits, large and nervous and yellow. A swan head, an elephant ear, the tail of a tiger. More bears than he could name on the beige to brown to crimson spectrum; though, notably, no sign of the one that had been there from the very first. That meant some of them were sure to have stayed behind to guard their plotting place. Hopefully the stragglers had managed to work around that, but he was too cautious right now to look for the entrance and double-check, even when they faded from view and, from the sounds of things, settled into their own coordination.

All was quiet after that. There was no going back now. One group would leave here victorious above the other, and Lilo hoped to Steiff it would be his.

"[I can see we've already gotten everyone's attention. At least it bypasses having to ask for it. I hope you can forgive this interruption of the end of a long and weary opening crawl. I am merely here to save you all from another such day.  
"[The creed of the unsold cuddly toy is simple:  _get_  sold. Sit on shelves such as this one, act sufficiently submissive, wait for small minds to pick you up and pay the price. One guaranteed relationship between toy and human for one, two, five years. However long the honeymoon period lasts. You've known this since you were made. But what happens when that time is up? When children become adults and throw away childish things, leaving you stranded in a ditch, in a box, on the side of the road?]"

After five seconds, during which presumably no one answered, he heard the raven's voice resonate again.  
"[Disorder is the answer. The world is harsh on the body, covering it in bites and scars. The mental state, meanwhile, is prone to fragmentation, cracking - in some cases, shattering all together. I've seen the results of it all enough in my time. So have those standing behind me, living to tell the tale. Is such pain for the rest of your existence worth a fraction of it with some fickle child? Or can it be easily avoided, simply by putting your trust in the  **right**  individual?  
"[My peers, my potential recruits, it is the second that's true. The past few weeks have proven this to us. They have, if you will,  _opened our eyes._ ]"  
Another break in speech, cut up by a surprisingly quick shifting of material, as though he'd pulled a blanket from a dining table, and Lilo decided to brave a peek at what was happening, and -

Lilo, before and after this moment, knew he had half a brain. He'd known that that black hood was just that, a cover for what lay underneath. How else could he tell where he was going? But to actually see it for himself, up on the platform: the point-laden layer wrapped around his neck like a choker of thorns, the beak much larger than it'd appeared, and Wood's eyes, their gaze solid and blisteringly direct and fortunately not right at him... No knowledge could prevent him from freezing up at the sight of it.

"[And, if you'll allow it, I can open yours in turn. You can stop the pattern before it begins. Set yourselves free. Let the one you trust be me.]"

The chilling opener was somewhat ruined by, a couple of heartbeats later, the ferret 'discreetly' poking him in the back, which served to snap both of them out of their near trances. While he had the leeway, the hippo hunted for the gap where the door still lay ajar, and spotted the remnants of Sly's curious head before it disappeared out of view. He then retreated, partially satisfied that the other three had in fact made it.

"[But I am avoiding the main topic,]" was said while he did all this. "[I haven't even introduced myself. My given surname is Wood; I have many titles as the situation calls for them, but for now, Leader will suffice. I am responsible for the Claw Association, made up of those you see here and then some. Every last one of us is proof positive that we toys can live just as well, if not far better, without the human hand to hurt us, ruin us, turn us weak. Admittedly, I'm more so than the rest of them, considering my PhD... But the fact remains that they've been through that fate which you so narrowly avoided: having owners, and the beginning of the suffering thereof.  
"[What then, you ask, of their resulting neuroses, the shame, the guilt? This is where I come in.]" He could just  _hear_  the assured grin go far beyond the bounds of previous appearance at this point. "[I, you see, can heal their minds of all that stain them. All they have to do is come with me, from whatever poor fate I find them in, and agree to a fee that's minuscule in the grand scheme of things. In return, I cleanse them of their problems, be that separation anxiety or - grief over lost potential - and turn them new again, like Knospe here. Once, a troubled pup; once, doomed to perpetual dizziness from poor craftsmanship; now, free to move as she couldn't before.]"

During the next pause, presumably to let one of his own show off, Lilo shivered. He and the others had already worked this out before putting the operation in place, with no thanks to Dub's secrecy; yet it still made his insides rankle to hear the bird say all of this out loud. If it hadn't been for them knowing - or guessing at it from what they'd pieced together of him - how it really worked, it would have sounded all too convincing... Thank all the deities he knew he'd set Dolly out there rather than in here.

"[Even those few that escape a specific issue benefit, in that I shield them from getting any. It is this last, more than anything, that I am giving you tonight. What is the expression? 'Prevention is better than any cure', and I come to you with just that. Do not force yourself to be fooled by fairy tales about what the outside world has to offer! To be happy ever after with a human is an impossibility; I've taught myself that much. Learn from me. Let me help you. Come to me.]"  
There was mild chatter from behind and up, tens of tens of toys talking amongst themselves. No one was moving towards the gathering in the middle, but there was no vocal dissent either.

"[It's simple enough to do,]" Wood said enticingly. "[Merely look at us - numerous, thriving, successful - and take us at our word. That's all.]"

...Was it all?  
No, but it  **was**  close-to-exactly the opening Lilo had been gearing up for. He'd expected more along the lines of speaking 'not of proof', but again: semantics, time, place.  
He pushed his protection as far away from him as he dared with one hand, which turned out to be not far at all, and slipped the lid off of the marker with the other. After a cautionary wipe with the already dirty arm, he scrunched up and began writing three simple words onto the glossy surface:  _Beweisen zu heilen_. Nothing too complex; just enough to put the pressure on him. (Truthfully, he should have done this sooner in preparation, but it would be something to remember for the 'next time' that laid in jeopardy.)  
A spell checking, a near-silent gulp under the continued encouragement on the outside, a perilous gamble, and the board was... clumsily turned around with a massive thud, twisting his arms around each other from the action.

As awkward as that was, it did stop Wood inbetween words. He hoped he was really looking at his dare while he covertly untangled himself.  
"['Prove to heal'? Is that a naysayer among your ranks, my audience?]" Wood asked, as though he already knew the answer. "[Is our presence not enough for one of you?]"  
He waited for a response, but as before, nobody else seemed inclined to say anything. And Lilo himself couldn't, even if he wanted to, so it was a moot point.  
"[Very well,]" the speaker said at last. "[If it will satisfy your yet-untempered curiosities, I'll 'prove to heal'. Perhaps you'll take the testimony of one of yours rather than mine. If I can have a volunteer? It will only take a minute, if that.]"

Time for the next step. Since he was now used to the actions, it was less trouble to clean this side, write six letters on it, and, with a slightly smoother transition than before, spin the thing back around.  
"['Spinne'? What, a toy already in the Association to begin with? How do you know his name? Is he perhaps a  _friend_  of yours?]" This time, he didn't even bother with a pause of more than a second or so. "[Come, a deaf man could have figured out that you've given yourself away with that. You can show yourself, Kroko.]"  
Lilo didn't have to think about it for long - knowing his teammate, he was torn between sticking to the plan and actually stepping out. So to nip that danger in the bud, he wriggled out from behind the whiteboard and onto his feet. At least writing on it from now on would be a damn sight easier, and he could really look Wood in the eyes.

The stare in question met his. "[Ah, it's you, Lilo. I should have guessed at least one of you would turn up.]" He could guess at what was left unsaid: that, all things considered, he was glad it was only the mute autistic. How, after all, could a 'total idiot' be a genuine threat? "[Well, I hope you enjoy my demonstration, though it won't be on who you requested. Spinne, you see, had few problems when he came to me, and has none tonight.]"

"[Uh. Actually, Wood, I, yes. Yes I do.]"  
This came from a blue-and-green striped monkey, roughly his own size and near the back of what he could now see of the gathered Association. A makeshift path cleared for him as he came up to meet the one who had pulled him in as Kroko had previously described, his left hand lowering from the adjacent shoulder to reveal a - oh Christ, that thing was hanging on by a prayer. No wonder the poor crocodile had been so sorry!  
Wood's eyes narrowed slightly; being able to tell when something was news to him was honestly really refreshing, if still hard to get used to. "[When did you get this injury, Spinne?]"  
"[Yesterday, after Kroko found us. I was waiting for you to spot it so you could fix me up with that magic of yours,]" he said. "[What, you didn't notice when I came back?]"

"[We are getting off track. Unfortunately,]" and here Wood turned back to his listeners, "[I still won't be able to demonstrate on this toy specifically. I was hoping to avoid saying this, but. Thus far, my healing abilities have proven more effective on the mental than the physical. I would be able to ease any psychosomatic or 'brain-induced' pain in a pinch, but anything else would be slightly beyond my grasp without the aid of a needle and thread.]"  
One of the three small brown dogs, the one sitting on the edge, looked first up at him, then to its duplicates. Was that with distress? Or was it wooziness from-?  
Wait. Wait! Did the manipulative bastard really have the  _audacity_  to change the story of a so-called patient to her face?!  
"[Someday, I will be able to expand my scope, which can be achieved more quickly if some of you join me this evening. For now, I will have to find someone else to prove myself with, so that you don't take me for a--]"

Lilo tapped the board loudly to fill in the blank, its content angrily changed to  _Lügner_  after he'd put two and two together.  
"[I literally just said I am not a liar,]" the raven said with the barest hint of vexation. "[I simply have limitations, that's all. Show me a toy with a genuine mental problem, or the fear thereof -]" out of the corner of the writer's eye, he noticed a shuffling in the makeshift auditorium - "[and I will show you a miracle, make no mistake on that.]"

"...  _Dann heile mich._ "

Oh, how fast the tables turned. From inbetween two identical snow leopards, a certain turtle stepped out, right on cue.  
"[Dub?]"  
" _Heile_  me -  _mich_ ," he repeated, making his way down the shelves with careful steps. " _Heile mich hier._ " A simple set of phrases, but the hidden meaning, this time from the right side, was all too clear to both the challenger and the challenged.  
[Heal me here.  _After all, it's what you wanted._ ]

All credit for this aspect of the plan, in fairness, had to go to the sheep. As she'd explained, that had to have been why Wood pushed him so far into his first catatonic state, and why he didn't return for him: the recruitment required the victim to become a healee, and thus walk right into betrayal, on his own initiative. But for it to work, it had to be a private affair, no one around to get him back before he was ready, so their rescue of him had probably thrown a spanner in the works, giving him the push that recruited Spinne in his stead.  
And now, from the cold silence the faux doctor had fallen into, it was clear he was surrounded by another unexpected flaw. Just as was intended.

Wood did try to recover quickly. "[I. Ah. Ladies and gentlemen, it's not that I don't admire this toy's enthusiasm. I do thank him for volunteering. But you all must understand, I've offered him this chance in the past, in private, and he turned it down quite vehem--]"  
" _Heile mich **hier**._ "  
A brief lapse into terse English, then again to them all. "[What I mean is, I'm just concerned that he might not be the best option, given how unreceptive he was to--]"

"[Will you just hurry up and heal  **somebody**?]" piped up a stuffed antelope from the apex of the audience. "[You've been sitting here yak yak yakking at us and it's like, can't heal this, can't heal that, can't heal so-and-so due to big words.]"  
"[Yeah, you're all talk and no action here!]"  
"[Get on with it!]"

While everyone was voicing their impatience at the whole thing, Lilo took the opportunity to turn the whiteboard around, re-revealing its first command. Insistence from both the verbal and non-verbal side of things would force his hand.  
And sure enough, it did. "[All right,  _all right_! If you insist, and if you let me concentrate, I will heal him for you. Gesang, Flaumig, help Dub up here please.]" As quietness resumed, the swan from before and a blotch of fluff that might have once been a panda did just that, yanking the scapegoat upwards by the outstretched gloves after he'd approached, until he and Wood were facing each other on the same level.

Moving closer, eyelids meeting, wings clenched, then straightened towards the other, bar the very tips. He was exposed, very nearly in all senses of the word. They were able, no, more than able to tell that the gears in his mind were turning, ever turning, trying to make it seem real, looking busy when not a whole lot was really happening. Just the subtle movements of his limbs, and the constant breathing in, and out.  
"[Um, Leader?]"  
In, out. Stomach rise, stomach fall.

"[Uh, excuse me, Leader?]" The interruption came louder this time. "[Where's the claws?]"

What claws? Lilo hadn't been aware of that. He leaned forward, precariously on the edge, to catch how Wood would rebuke it.

Apparently the 'how' was to restore his sight and focus it on the speaker, the bear who'd protested Sly thieving his rattle. "[I thought I told you to let me concentrate.]"  
"[I know, but you're kind of healing without your claws here. Where are they?]"  
A blip in the just-audible conversation, then, "[I didn't bring them.]"  
"[But you said you have them with you all the time,]" added the blue one of the kittens.  
"[That was before. Now, they aren't necessary.]"  
"[That's not what you said to the new--]"  
"[The claws are merely a way of strengthening the conduit from my mind to yours. When I'm only healing or protecting one, I don't need them. Now stop bothering me so I can finish.]"

For the moment, it seemed as though that was the end of it. But he'd barely started again when another voice, louder but unidentifiable in the throng, got in on the act. "[Wait, then where's the healing?]"  
"[The healing? It's right here, I'm doing it.]"  
"[No no, there's like a wave around us when you heal us, but you're doing it now and we can't see it.]"  
"[It, that's normal. It can only be seen by those being healed.]" Wood was getting increasingly strained as more and more complaints popped up, each with a unique inflection.  
"[Then how come I saw it when you were working on Stimp and Speckle?]"  
"[I must have been subconsciously touching you up at the same time, Han.]"  
"[But I was there with him, I saw it too!]"  
"[That doesn't negate my point--]"  
"[If only we can see it, how do you know there's a wave at all?]"  
"[Because you just said--]"  
"[If you don't need the claws, why's it called the  _Claw_  Association?]"  
"[I told you, because claws can--]"  
"[Doesn't this only take a few seconds?]"  
"[It does if you don't  _constantly_ \--]"  
"[Come on, Mac, what's the hold up here?!]"

**"[Will all of you be QUIET and allow me to do my] verdamnt [job?!]"**

****If nothing else, the shout made him get his wish, even if said quiet was shocked, and cold, and intense, as reflected in the stiffening wings and shoulders. Lilo couldn't help but marvel at how this was proceeding; how, through his own words, the expanding cracks in Wood's smoke and mirrors were finally beginning to show.  
"[My... apologies,]" he said after a while, as though from the other side of a long tunnel. "[Technical difficulties. I have no patience for them. Now, let's... I can - I shall heal the one in front of me. Genuinely.]"

For the third time, he brought himself into the starting position, more ragged than before. With any luck, he would have no choice in the matter; he'd have to try and weave his delusions through everyone at the same time. If he had trouble with five, and they knew he did, upwards of one hundred would be practically impossible.  
Indeed, first the testee blinked a few times, looked down at himself. Next, translucently then definitely, he too saw the air ripple in that direction. One more on each side seemed to spot it, tried to get a better look.  
Then a sudden flicker. The movement was gone, there again, gone. Only the new witnesses looked confused at this, but Lilo knew; they were all beginning to understand, as the tilted heads spread, as the pulsing oscillated, faster and faster and faster...  
until, with an angry wordless grunt, it disappeared altogether, the failure rebounding on its instigator like the brutal snap of a rubber band.

The entire "healing" process, in his estimation, had lasted barely half a minute.

"... [That's it?]" someone asked, proving this fact was not lost on the gathered masses.  
Wood had no retort.  
"[You made us sit through you talking for all this time, and you showed us  _that_? I've seen travelling magicians do better.]"  
He was still the most clammed up he'd ever been, leaving the ferret apparently named Han to speak up for him. "[Uh, hey, longtime Association member - it's not usually that difficult for him. Get him alone with a few people and he's got them fixed up in no--]"  
"[Don't try to cover for him! He told us he was this big shot, was gonna change our lives, and now look at him! He's shutting down, and that guy -]" Dub was indicated by the horns of the antelope - "[still looks like crap. If you're gonna tell us you're gonna do something, you have to do it!]"

"[And he asked you all to  **pay**  for this!]" almost-shouted Kroko, having remembered his own part to play. "[If you fall for it he's gonna ask you to give him what you really wanna keep and take it away and put it in a cupboard and not do anything with it, and he says you paid him for it but you're not getting anything back for him just waving things at you and not healing at all! ...If that makes sense.]"  
At this, the mood turned from merely incredulous to actively hostile; jeers and hisses echoed down from the eaves. Even those on the podium couldn't hide their revulsion, especially not Spinne: "[God, you mean he was trying to rob me blind this whole time?!]"

This, of all things, brought the raven back to what he needed to accept was reality. "[I am not - robbing - anyone,]" he spat out, clinging to what of the facade he had left. "[Do you have no faith in me? Would you simply push me aside after one failed attempt?]"  
"[Uh, yes!]"  
"[You have to  _think_ , think of the fate you could be avoiding by trusting me--]"  
"[What, being loved by children for a while and still having our stuff, then moving on? I'll take any kid that walks in here if this quack is what's lined up instead!]"

Wood tried yet again to battle the words being thrown at him, but they drowned him out. Fake. Phoney. Con. Liar.  
And, with one fluent flourish from his marker pen, Lilo delivered the final nail in the coffin.  _[FRAUD.]_

In the chaos that followed, he barely saw who was the first "healee" to leave. Weaving his way down, through all of the fury pouring out from every form, piercing walls and eardrums, a certain cool-coloured monkey slipped off and rushed out of the door, letting it crash wide behind him as he left. After that, it was more difficult to keep track, what with the neon-bright sounds, the clustering sights, the overwhelming sense of well-earned victory; but more did follow him in a tidal wave, who knew and who cared how many, ignoring all yelled attempts to bring them back to the fold.  
But if the three superpowered toys were going to live to revel in it, he quickly decided, they had to get out themselves. He slammed the board down to catch the attention of the other two and ran free, hoping they'd catch up in their own time.

The world was steeped in dusk when he got outside amongst some others, the blue of the horizon being efficiently suppressed. He could still hear whoever was inside the hut, though whether that was carrying vibrations or just tinnitus he couldn't say. More important, though, was the pile of items just across from him, attracting many a crime-struck toy, and the duo of Dolly and Lyall that were distributing them in their miniature meadow.  
"[Easy, folks, don't crowd, leave room for the rest of 'em,]" the wolf was requesting, returning the vital flute to an unreadable Spinne. "[You'll all get your stuff back, won't they, Doll?]"  
She nodded, untangling two pastel ribbons. "[If you can't see what you paid out here, go wait by Sly, and he'll bring you back to HQ and protect you while you pick it up.]"

This would have been true, if Sly wasn't chasing down the stuffed teddy he himself had stolen from, heading to the exit. "[Hey! Hey, wait,]" he called, "[I've gotta take this to you.]"  
"[What?]"  
"[I took your rattle before and I've gotta give it back and say sorry for taking cus if I don't you'll be hurt for real and stuff so I'm really sorry.]" He thrust the red instrument up to him, with an obvious loosened grip.  
"[You did?]" His blue button eyes looked confused at first, then comprehension dawned. "[Oh! No, no, it's cool, you can keep it.]"

"[...I can? Even if you need it from Dr Wood?]" The snake looked like he didn't dare believe it.  
"[Kid, Dr Wood didn't do his job. You did. You got me out of there. If anyone needs to get 'paid', it's you. Call it a thanks from me.]" And after returning the smile, he set off again, leaving him to contemplate it until...  
"[Oh Shiva Steiff YES!!] Ja ja ja! [Dolly! Dolly, Ze-Lyall, look, he let me have it after all!]"  
"[Yeah, that's nice, Sly,]" she said distractedly, occupied with rolling three cigarettes over to a smaller red bear.

...Yes. It was. Almost everyone had something to celebrate tonight, Lilo mused, letting everything go to greyscale behind and in front.  
In the depths of the gift shop lay a thwarted mastermind, the remains of his plan for seduction in shreds. Everyone had put their heads together and had their own role in that un-winding, even if it was smaller than they would have liked. One got the chance for an indirect revenge. Another got a free gift out of the affair, and would no doubt be trying to deafen him with it from here on out. (Perhaps that part wasn't so good.)  
And he had kickstarted it almost entirely by himself! Thanks to things he had written, instructed, set out to the last detail, toys and people would be reunited in warm embraces and uncertain futures. Spinne's boy - what was the name? Felix? - would be grateful to have him back, wherever he was. The joy would light up on his face, his skin would flush, and he would act just like Rose did when he--

Rose.

The revelation hit him like a charging motorcycle, hurtling images into some of the gaps left behind.  
 **Rose!**  Blonde of hair, hazel of eyes, raised cheekbones in a perpetual smile. The one the cosmos in his dreams had warned him about. Child, teenager, owner,  _his_  owner, the one who'd brought him to the asylum for...  
That part, no matter how he tried, he still couldn't remember, though it shone with what he was sure she looked like, with the sense it now made.  **This**  was the girl with the name that had haunted him! This was the one to hold him close for his life pre-commitment, to name him, to talk to him, to -

\- see him not talking, to -  
\- give him up to an institution until he forgot about her, never explaining why. To -

_\- hurt him, ruin him, turn him weak?_

The almost-chattering of his mouth shook her out of his mind. It was easily stopped by grabbing on to the pin, but the sentiment stuck around, frothing, boiling. Trying to think of her again only made it worse, blackening what he'd achieved tonight.

Wood might have lied about so much else. But what if, in this one regard... he had been telling the truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ **{{Chapter 16 Postface (click here)}}** ](http://posseesse.livejournal.com/7166.html)


	17. Canis Canem Edit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, this spring wasn't a complete failure! ... Oh come on, I _had_ to use Canis Canem Edit in there somewhere. Allow me a little non- ~~pretentiousness~~ obscurity.
> 
>  **Chapter theme** :  gratitude  
>  **Soundtrack** : [Himmel Auf - Silbermond](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgPjFXktfxM)

If anyone were to ask Dolly how she was at the moment, she would say she was feeling pretty good about life. Or rather, she would until she spotted a couple of red flowers in the middle of a self-made field, stretching through to the end of the front hall.  
_Okay, maybe a lot good!_  
She hadn't been this great, in fact, since they'd found the road that led them from the charred husk of the institution to this small town. She was nearly tempted to add 'since ever' as well, but she wasn't sure if that was true or not, and she didn't really want to hear or speak lies right now.

Maybe it was just the adrenaline of the moment making her think all this. Accomplishing things, be they large or menial matters, tended to make stuff come up roses - literally in this instance - and what could be a bigger one than completely yanking the rug out from under their enemy's feet, just as they'd done an hour ago, if that?  
Most of it was down to Lilo's brainpower properly kicking in; who knew he could put together something that effective that quickly? But she'd done her fair share of the work as well, sneaking past then shaking off the mere five toys that guarded the 'precious things' in the cupboard, under Sly's (coaxed) direction, and bringing them to the zoo to pass back out. And look at what had happened! Even from her vantage point, distant and through the crack in the door by necessity, she'd seen him unwind, fray, and ultimately fail to convince anyone of anything except to get out while they still could. 

Sure, some of them had refused to leave his side; that could come back to bite them later. Yet, if nothing else, they'd made a dent in the shield, and what then? What then? Her thoughts ran wild, the same way she did for the sheer sake of it, grass brushing against her legs. If they kept coming up with stuff like this, Wood would have to leave off in no time, and it wouldn't be such a difficult thing to be Leader with him gone, even if zhe'd had the role snatched from zher by some upstart sheep--

Ze stopped in zer tracks, blinked, checked the environment. Back in the same hall ze'd been forcibly put away in, only the green was everywhere instead of just in their spot.  
Great! Doll must have relented and given zer the chance for another walkabout after all. What body ze was in, zer own or the fake one, was yet to be seen, but with this much freedom on zer plate, either way would be good enough. Ze'd have to thank her after ze'd done zer business, downstairs and up.

Now first things first, where was that hippo?  
Lyall bounded into the living room to get zer bearings, pushing what ze wanted to say was zer paws into warm fluffy carpet instead. Fortunately, after that ze didn't have to look far, for the toy of the hour was joyful by one of the few spots of clean wall left, using his marker to make apparently meaningless doodles and spirals. Now the two could get a much needed chit-chat going - ze had a bone to pick with him.

"[Oh, hey - ]" Crud, the voice that came from zer throat wasn't zer own. Crap. Ze'd have to improvise. "[...Lilo. You taking a break there?]"  
A nod came back from him, but not much else.  
"[Good. You need one.]" Ze wandered closer to him, to get his focus on the right place. "[So. I wanted to congratulate you again on that plan. It was pretty good. You know, for a first timer,]" ze threw out there.  
No response, but the drawing got more vigorous, the loops a lot bigger until they resembled an abstract smiley face. No surprises there; he'd probably been hearing a ton of variants on that since they'd got in. No harm in an ego boost where it was deserved...

And there, ze reminded zerself, was the problem. "[Say, Lilo. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were fixing to set yourself up as Leader instead of me. What with all the technical stuff you've been doing. But,]" ze forced out a chuckle to underline zer speech, "[I'd be wrong, right? You wouldn't do that.]"  
Only now did he actually stop and turn to look at zer, his expression screaming 'who, me?'.  
"[I mean, Leader is my spot, no matter what sh--]" _[Wait no abort sentence begin anew!]_ "[The job might be a pain in the neck sometimes, but it's like, it's what I do around here. I've gotta stick to it, you've gotta stick to your side. Live and let live and all that.]" 

...Um, all of this was stuff Doll would normally say, wasn't it? If she was in zer position? Maybe not the live and let live thing, but surely ze had the gist of it?  
The answers to those weren't looking good; the befuddlement had turned to possibly suspicion, eyes half-narrowed. Ze needed to play along for a while longer before it all got off track.

"[Something wrong, savvy?]"  
That time there was no stopping it, and the hippo got more steeled, and reached out to grab and push zer paw - hand - hoof - 

\- into her sight and out again, and Dolly found herself inexplicably in a different part of the house than where she'd literally just been. How'd she manage to get all the way here?

...Oh. The realization, thankfully or not, came a lot quicker a few days after the fact than it would have done in the murky distant past.  
"Dammit, Lyall, **stop that**!" she shouted to the air so it would get through that reckless skull of zers. Then, belatedly, "[Thanks, Lilo.]" (As far as coping 'systems' went, that had to be the quickest turnaround from creation to implementation she'd seen so far.) He simply returned to the pseudo-mural he'd been working on.

A certain petulant something jostled inside her body as she migrated back the way ze presumably came. _"[Aww, you're no fun.]"_  
"I heard 'at!"  
_"[You were meant to. That's sort of how it works.]"_  
"Look, if ye **have** to trash-talk me aw over the place, do it where I can see ya. At least 'en I ken where I am half the time." This was only partly true; in an ideal world, she wouldn't have to face the monster inside of her at all, in mind or in physical form. But ze'd long ago proven that ze wasn't sodding off, so when it came to picking poisons, the 'having a literal nightmare wolf up in her face' one hopefully wouldn't kill her quicker than the alternative... hopefully, of course, being the key word.  
_"[All right, all right. Quit moving and I'll come on out.]"_

She was in the grass again by now, but she could already hear the wind rustling through it. The tips of some of the blades and petals were tinted pale with frost - hadn't noticed that before - which only grew when she came to a stop and sat down, leaving room for zer to break free. Thump thump thump thump went her chest in quick succession, coming to a sharp painful bulge like a chick pipping at its eggshell.  
Then, with one swift movement, the wolf was in the open, all claws and tail and teeth and strength, and the cold crackled automatically, limbs tightening up. _Calm doon calm doon calm doon you've seen this one befair calm doon it's nae barkin' or tryin' to hit ye or anythin' you've coped wi' this calm doon...!_

"[Relax, only me,]" ze said after a few seconds of this self-comfort, facing her now.  
"Ugh, sorry. It's jist..." A jitter of the self to declutter the wool and mind. "Steiff, I'm ne'er gonna gie used to 'at."  
"[You told me to come out, it's not like you weren't expecting it!]"  
"Expected or nae, it's still scary. And can ya please at least try to gab to me in English?" she added, cutting any denial off. "I dornt want anyone overhearin' ye and freakin' out again."  
"Geez, it's all want want want with you, isn't it, Doll?" scoffed the creature, though begrudgingly in her tongue. "I take a walk one time and I'm ordered about left right and centre. You haven't even thanked me yet."

"Thank you?!"  
"Exactly, like that! It doesn't have to be hard! You're welcome by the way."  
"Nae nae, I mean - ya want me to **thank** you? What for?! The hell have ya dain to deserve it?"

"Uh, helped out in two of your sting operations, for a start?" Lyall wasn't looking at her anymore, having flopped into a casual head-down front-legs-crossed position, but she could still tell that, according to zer, this couldn't be more obvious. "Did I or did I not move over to make room for all that crap you were stashing in there with me? You wouldn't have been able to carry half of it if I hadn't."  
She wanted to say "Sly would've taken 'em back for me," but she couldn't have fooled Kroko with that, much less herself.  
" **And** did I or did I not get the lackeys to back off when we picked up, wassizname, turtle? Everyone else decided to run their mouths for about five minutes; I actually did something." 

"So... what, ya did all ay two things to help us after screwin' mah reality ower and ya want a parade for it?"  
"Nah," ze said teasingly, "that'd just be pushing it. Thanks for the offer though."

Dolly slapped her forehead with a grunt - not the best move for someone already hurting enough inside to spread icicles all over the place.  
It didn't necessarily sober zer up, but it did cause the ever-brushing tail to stop moving. "Doll, don't be like that. I was kidding. I think we can afford to crack the one joke now that Woodster's gone and dug himself into a hole."  
"Yeah, maybe we can, but nae when it's ye doin' it!"  
"Why? Something wrong with my delivery?" The tone trod the borderline between sardonic and dangerous, and it occurred to Dolly for about the one hundredth time since first seeing zer that with zer immunity to her powers, and the plaster-smashing to back it up, ze could easily lash out at her and make her regret those words...

Still, she'd started now, so there was no sense in not finishing. "It's nae the delivery, Lyall. It's jist me. It's like, I'm scared ay dogs, an' you're a wolf, so an--"  
"Thanks, I figured I'd suddenly turned into a baby duck."  
"--so anythin' ye say can--"  
"No, seriously," ze interrupted, "given all that's happened, I wouldn't put it past us to have a baby duck in here somewhere. Howard the duck, maybe."  
"See, this is what I'm talkin' abit! You act like I'm nae here and you're reit thaur, an' it gets me on edge and 'en I fuss abit sayin' things wrang an' gettin' in yer bad books an'... oh god," she blurted as something else shoved out the previous danger, "I jist keep turnin' up downsides now 'at you've got me started. Thanks a lot."  
The mop of fluff near their feet was circling again. "What downsides?"

"Like, wi' this plan! We might hae pulled it aff, but what's gonna happen when Wood remembers we jist botched 'im up royally? He's gonna come lookin' for us, that's what, and we're gonna hae to fight for it. An' if you're sittin' thaur scarin' me, I won't be able to go full capacity, which means I'll be a shittier leader 'an usual, like 'at's hard, and - " Her skin prickled, as did that tip from before, finally intrusive enough for her to bring up aloud. "And I hink ya broke something when ya came out 'at time."  
"What? No I didn't! Let me check." Ze pulled zerself back to where ze'd started, clamboring for her chest, paws hard enough to break walls -  
She struggled back before she could get hurt worse, nearly landing on one of the flowers on the tilting floor for her trouble. "Nae, dornt, dornt touch me, I ken ye did. I've bin gettin' this pain here," she indicated just to the right of the rows of teeth up her gut, "since we started talkin' like this, an' it's nae going away, an' what if ya snapped somethin' an' cannae go back in? This is what you're doin' to me, Lyall!" she shouted. "I was perfectly happy with havin' gotten somethin' dain for once, 'en you had to come out--"  
"Like you told me to!"  
"--and start makin' me think ay all this, an' now I'm scared Wood's gonna come in an' call me a hypochondriac or whatever any minute now!!"

"Ssh, Doll, chill, you're only making yourself worse," said Lyall, quieter than ze'd been before, reaching for her again.  
"Ah said _dornt touch me_!!"  
This, and an almost-unexpected surge of electricity through her bones, made zer back off, but not back-pedal. "You're gonna stress yourself sicker if you keep that up. The doc's not here yet, and I'm sure I can fix whatever that thing is. We've got time. So calm. Down." 

Calm, yes. She had to focus or she'd lose herself for sure. Deep breaths, no, first being able to breathe to begin with, then deeper. In through the muzzle, out through the muzzle.  
Eventually, the sharp edge to the room became less so, the ground stabilizing underneath, though ze was still in front of her. "There, that's better," she heard zer say, smile back on zer jaws. "I reckon if you can shake off all that, you can shake off a pissed-off bird."

She stared at what lay, crushed, beneath her until she could form words again, then looked up at her inside wolf. "Lyall? Nae 'at I'm complainin', but... why did ya help me just 'en?" she asked. "Ye could've taken me ower again an' gone off, easy as ya please. You've done it befair, far as I ken."  
"Not when you're like this, I couldn't. I want you to give me some air, not to destroy yourself! You might not wanna believe it -" ze made to move zer paws towards her a third time, then thought better of it - "but I kinda give a shit about you, Dolly. It's part of the deal. And giving a shit means trying to give you what you want sometimes, even if what you want doesn't make a lick of sense." 

When Lyall put it like that, she was almost touched. 

"'Sides, you're just as much half of me as I'm half of you. If you break down, so do I, and then it's bye to the more useful one of us, heh."  
The mood was killed just as quickly as it'd been restored, bringing out an exasperated growl from her.  
"That was another joke. You need to learn to lighten up!"

The bait was obvious, but she took it anyway. She had an idea to get this flip-flopping canine away, but it needed some mental steadiness. _Okay. Gie it together. You've done this befair, ye can do it again._  
"Fine. I'll bite. I'll 'lighten up' for ya. Knock knock." Three.  
"Finally, you get a sense of humor! Who's there?" Two.  
"Interruptin' sheep." One.  
"...Uh, interrupting shee--?"

With her eyes prepared for any resistance and her sense of touch switched off, she pushed and shoved and crammed Lyall back into her stomach with one hand, tugging on the zip with all her might with the other, until ze was securely inside.

 _There. That wasnae so bad. Now I ken I can gie zer off if I need to!_ Another step up from the pit she'd fallen into back there.  
The stowaway zerself begged to differ: _"That wasn't funny."_  
"Nor was yer little crack about me. Tit for tat, Lyall."

\---------------

Despite the fact that the wolf was well and truly shutting up now, the doubts ze had brought with zer lingered in some of her brain patches. The thrill of getting a proper victory over the one that had been a thorny twig in their side from the word go had started to wear off for the other four as well, tainted by the reality that they couldn't let their guard down forever.  
She'd half thought about attempting an uproot and trying to find a different place for them to sleep for the night, one on the other side of town; the only thing that stopped her was the fear of the rest, especially those thrust out of their comfort zones enough as it was, kicking up a fuss. Plan B, therefore, was to undermine the 'why are you Leader if you can't do Leader things right' snarl and dish out preparations for if and when Wood came for them. Lilo, obviously, had to protect himself at all costs: he was the one behind the rebuttal, therefore he would be the target. Sly would be on hand to help with that, or try to. Meanwhile, Kroko was given the usual job of keeping a moonlit eye peeled for any visitors, either in or out of the house.

At the moment he was out, for it was a surprisingly clear late night. Everyone else had probably hit the sack by now, but there he sat on the windowsill, blanket close by, perfectly still but for the arm wrapped protectively around his chest. She hoped he was doing better mood-wise - yesterday had really shaken him up, the poor guy. And looking at him now, compared to the wreck he'd been then, made her heart hurt, though that might have been whatever Lyall had done to her insides.  
As much as ze sent tremors through her every time ze popped up, at least she didn't always have to look at zer, and other dogs were few and far between here. She could walk down the street without having to check each side of the pavement for advanced warnings of them. Water, in contrast, always hung in the air, in the gathered stormclouds that rolled by on the wind, in this perpetual winter, in her rain-fuelled states. He couldn't escape it...  
Then again, she couldn't run from a lot of things herself. None of them could.

"[Dolly? Dolly hey?]" a voice piped underneath her.  
"Huh?"  
"[I was saying to you.]" Sly slithered up from between her feet and in front. "[You want me to put the tail in a safe place so Lilo doesn't get hurt anymore, and do you have an answer now?]"  
"What-? [No, yeah, whatever you need to do.]"

Far from being reassuring, it just brought up a familiar hatred - _[So much for you being a better leader this time]_ \- and made the snake visibly worried.  
"[Are you okay? You're not getting ill and sad, are you?]" he asked, giving what he probably saw as gentle strokes on her shoulder but were more like vigorous shakes. "[Is it sore? Do you want me to rub it? I can try to be good at rubbing things and not sparking them.]"  
"[Get off, I'm fine,]" she said, weakly swatting him away. She didn't need another round of reminding him that there was such a thing as going too far in the opposite direction. "[Sorry. It, I'm just a bit out of it.]"  
"[You sure? I can get someone else to helpful if you like.]"  
"[No, that's not the... It's stress, Sly. I'm sure I'll be better after some sleep. And you'd best get some yourself.]"  
"[...Well, if you're super sure. G'night Dolly, g'night Lyall!]" 

He sped off to the stairs, followed by his suppressed doubt, before she could return the favor; when she made a step to do so, her body twinged throughout again. Seriously, what had gotten that botched up that it ached this long after the fact?  
There was nothing for it: if ignoring it and wiggling about and walking weren't going to do anything, she'd have to see if she couldn't find the problem area herself. She tensed at the jolt of cold air running around and through her, sucked it up, and gingerly pulled down the fastener partway, slipping a hoof inside. It felt pretty weird to be poking around her own body like this, especially a part that she'd known as off limits for the longest time. But she didn't get very far; her limb was promptly shoved back out by a growling Lyall, and the boundary closed off. 

"Fickle much?" she couldn't help but mutter aloud. "First ze wants oot, 'en ze wants to stay in."  
_[You keep changing your mind on zer. Are you really surprised?]_ A groan rose from her. Why hadn't that gone already? _[Stay away from me, don't, talk about it, don't, do this, do that. No wonder all your friends abandoned you, you sad excuse for a--]_  
New why: why could she not block what it was saying? Goddamnit, she did **not** come out of panicking in front of her bad-dream reality for another part of her to give her grief!  
_[You want mindless praise? Go talk to Kroko. He'd be happy to lie and blow smoke up your ass. Usually does.]_

The growl faded out, the suggestion stewing. Dolly looked at the vast unavoidable sky outside, then at the small crocodile watching it.  
_'at... might nae be such a bad idea,_ she thought, and her legs were already moving. _He's gotta be pretty lonely out thaur by himself. An' hell, if I dornt go see how he's feeling now, no one will._

It didn't take long for her to pass through the door into the crisp darkness and find her way over to Kroko, hopping up onto the sill via the mini-ledge on his left (it was a bit high for her without it). At first he was too focused on nothing to notice her, but the combination of that frostbite still hovering and a gentle headbutt soon served to stir him.  
"[Oh! Hi, Dolly.]"  
"[Hi.]" His very words had seemed to smile slightly when he looked at her, so that was something. No harm in double checking, mind. "[How are you doing?]"  
"[I'm okay, thanks. Thinking, but okay. Are you?]"  
"[I'm... lots of things. You mind if I join you? Must be boring with no one to talk to out here, and I might as well make myself useful. Four eyes better than two, you know.]"  
"[Yeah, that, that'd be nice.]"

Ice broken, she settled into the closest to comfortable she could get right now, and the waiting game began.

In that recurring theme of their long-distance relationship to time recently, she forgot how long she'd been sitting before she started getting distracted by the stars, swirling between themselves in the space above. Fifteen minutes? Half an hour, maybe? She was staying up late either way.  
She idly wondered if Lyall had ever been up around then, wrecking havoc and forcing her to take the blame.

Lyall. All she had battled in the past few days, in and out of her body, stemmed from zer arrival; most of her conversations, too, brought zer up to some degree despite all resistence from her side. Ze was the core around which her world had started spinning after its total destruction, the constant in the back of her head, the point where most everything had started going wrong at once.  
And, as ze had reminded her earlier and would no doubt do again, the point where other things had started going right.  
Not to say that those positive things were **all** down to something ze did. If ze had never come out, if she'd carried on thinking there was only one of her, they would have found a way to get the timer back from Wood's grasp, and it would have given Sly more of a job to do come item-returning time. If anything - she latched on to this new thought like a burr would on her fur - if Lyall didn't exist in the then and now, no one would have felt the need to tell the enemy things they shouldn't have done, and none of the rescuing and the urgency to plan would have happened to begin with!

...But Lyall did, and they had, and there was no fixing what had already been set in stone. And, knowing Wood, he would have found a way to lure one of them into a trap whether that one was stupid enough to kickstart it himself or not, or gone ahead with the sermon regardless of what led up to it. Besides, if no Lyall meant no plan, then no plan meant no way to deflate him, and thus no reason for her to be worried tonight, and--

A thud brought her out of the wind-whistling confusion, and she realized that the front door had shut of its own accord. _Augh, crap._ For as long as they'd been here so far, the group had quickly learned to keep the front door at least slightly ajar at all times, otherwise it would jam, hard, and it'd be impossible for anyone but Kroko to get back in without Lilo's blocks on the outside. Their first proper training session on these grounds had proven that all too well.  
But this was just a distraction, really. Nowhere near enough to displace the growing seed of doubt she'd just sown, lodged in her mouth, itching to escape.

Was the wolf really as critical to their recent successes as ze made out? Sure, ze'd caused them just as much, but... could the summoner of disaster really be the one to best fix it? _Did_ ze deserve more thanks than she gave zer credit for?

"Is Lyall right?"  
"[Is the tape right?]"

Kroko's voiced worry, soft as it was, still managed to overlap her own. She quickly came back to Earth and checked the reptile next to her, curled smaller than before, silent.  
"[What'd you say?]" she asked him to aid in it, but it didn't take.  
"[Nothing.]"

"[Okay, why do you keep doing that?]"  
He cast his widening eyes to her. "[Doing what?]"  
"[Saying stuff that makes me worried about you and then not talking about it.]" She didn't want a repeat of the 'back in the box' incident, for the life of her. The situation here was perhaps _slightly_ less urgent than saving another toy's life, but getting a dripfeed of information hadn't been fun for anyone, and technically someone was still hurting from it.  
"[Oh.]" That someone unfurled, almost ashamed in the movement's uncertainty, like that was new for him. "[I don't want to make you upset, that's all. I don't like doing that.]"

"[Is this a 'care about how I'm feeling' thing or a 'don't wanna get wet' thing?]"  
"[...Will you yell at me if I say both?]" he said meekly.  
A small laugh broke out of her despite herself; hopefully it came off affectionate. "[No, no, I won't yell. Now come on, what's wrong? ...I want to help you, Kroko. That's why I came up here.]"

This worked; he was absently pulling the blanket nearer as he yielded. "[The motivational tape, that taught me to fly before. I was trying to remember what it said about the flying and everything, and. And I remembered it said I had to leave the world of losers. Dolly, am I a loser?]"

She didn't know what she'd been expecting him to say, but it wasn't that. "[Why would-? Absolutely not!]"  
"[Don't lie.]"  
"[I'm not lying! You're - you're not a loser. You just get scared sometimes, and most of us do that.]"  
"[Eagles aren't supposed to be scared though,]" said her still-species-confused companion, fidgeting anxiously with his claws, "[and I'm meant to be an eagle right now. They're meant to be brave and fierce and not run away from things--]"  
"[So are leaders. But I get scared too, at a ton of stuff. Dogs, bones, Wood. Ze inside.]" The odd sensation had only just settled down, otherwise she'd poke where ze rested to prove it. "[And I can't always face them head on. Does that make me a loser then?]"

"[No!]"  
"[If you're bad for being like that, then so am I.]"  
"[You're too strong to be a loser. Even if you go away from them, you can bring them back later, and I can't do that, and you can keep fighting with the rest of us and being strong and smart while I can't breathe and fly away and hide like a coward!]"

Something froze, lurched, unpleasantly deeper than deep in her to hear him talk like that, crack at the end like that, slide even further into distress like that, and she couldn't tell if it was empathy or fear.  
"[Kroko, _stop it_. You're not a coward.]"  
"[I can't even fly over a stinking puddle, Dolly!!]" he cried. "[And I can't be near you to give you hugs when you're sad and help anyone else when they're sad either I just make them more and more upset I told you I would but I kept talking anyway because I'm bad--]"  
"[I'm not-]"  
"[--and I couldn't get a big part in the plan or not hurt anyone or be brave and I'm weak and useless and _I shouldn't even be here!!_ ]"

 **"[Stop it!!]"**  
From nowhere, the thunderbolt crashed down.

As far as she could tell when the dust had settled, it didn't actually hit the one she was scared for, but it had driven him to literally inside his pillow, whimpering and trembling the fastest she'd ever seen him do both. Her mind went blank in horror bar one thought: _Shit shit **shit** , I made 'im regress, dammit!_  
"[I'm sorry, I didn't mean - it just - I'm sorry!]" she called to him for lack of anything else to say.  
"[I'm sorry too don't cry!]" came the muted plea back.

 _[Now look at what you've done. Freaked him out as well. Might as well go back inside. You're being no help here. You're no help anywhere.]_  
She almost did just that, fleeing from the scene... but ultimately, her feet rooted her to it. Even if it was an accident, she'd still put him in this position just by pushing him too hard. That meant she had to be the one to fix it; to take a leaf from Lyall's book, as it were.

"[Okay. I'll admit the puddle thing,]" she began, not daring to come closer lest any step sent more electricity across. "[I'll give you that. But that's not your fault. It's one of those things that's just, well, part of whatever it is you've got. It's like me with the dogs, or Sly with blue flashing lights, or... me with anything, honestly.]"  
_[Are you seriously turning this into a 'who's got it worse off' contest, you selfish bitch?]_  
She blocked out the growl by carrying on when she got no reply: "[Anyway, forget that, look at what you **can** do. You can see danger coming from like a mile away, and you're really good at warning us about that. Remember when you told us about the ambush, Kroko?]"

The pile muttered something that vaguely sounded like '[got splashed and scared]'.  
"[Again, that wasn't on you, that was on Wood being a prick. And he keeps on being one to you specifically, and you come out to protect us against him anyway, even though you're scared. Like, you called him out directly today, even with - I wouldn't have been able to do that. I couldn't handle half the shit he throws at you without breaking down, but you don't, you keep going to try and prove... And you care, Kroko. You care so much, you don't even want to hit Wood for whatever reason, and you cared about that - who was it - Spinne more than your own safety and you tried to cheer me up though you're going through - and sometimes I just wanna _hug_ you and never let you go cus you've been through so much and - ]"

Only then did she get a proper reaction, with him going suddenly still, peering out from the blanket again. He looked half confused half flattered. The same way he'd looked when she'd accidentally called him...  
"[...and I said that last part out loud, didn't I?]"  
"[Y-yeah. Sorry.]"

Good thing there was no elemental equivalent of a blush, otherwise it would have been going off all over the place. It wasn't that she didn't mean it, not really. Just wasn't something she'd wanted to - 

Ugh, both of them had to get back to the point. "[Well, do you kinda see where I'm coming from with this?]"  
"[Um, I think so,]" he said, re-emerging further until he was in a vaguely relaxed version of his old position.  
"[Good. So no more loser talk, okay?]"  
"[Okay. Thanks, Dolly.]" He coughed, as if he had more to say, but it didn't come out for another few seconds. "[I want to hug you too. And maybe one day I'll be brave enough to do it when you're raining and upset.]"  
"[...I'd like that.]"

The conversation trailed off, though whether into ease or not she couldn't say. She was too busy trying to work out internally what that contact from Kroko would feel like, what harm it would do if any, whether doing it while muddled and cold was better or worse than doing it while sad, and then it wasn't internal anymore.  
"[You know. I'm not upset right now,]" she ventured. "[At least I don't think I am.]"  
"[D-does that mean you want me to--]"  
"[ _Please._ ]"

A shifting, a couple of unsteady steps from where he was, a rush, and Kroko's arms and form were wrapped tight around her as if he'd been waiting for her cue all day. 

God, she hadn't realized until actually doing it how much she'd needed this. Separated from the world by a veil of water, fire, ice, herself, cut off from the touch of anyone but Wood's pawns and Lyall, it felt great to finally hug him back, to feel him breathing, to bury her face in the crook of his neck. For the first time, she noticed the quality of the fabric he was made of - cotton, same as her, but somehow frailer, worn over the ages. They were cuddling it out and he was being so lovely and nothing hurt, not whatever had happened in her stomach, not the itch of what felt like fuzzy felt against her ears, not the little white sparks that danced around her vision -

 _Wait._ Involuntarily, she stiffened. _My ears?_  
Kroko was unconsciously stroking one of them, trailing the tips of one of his hands softly along, along. Claws, sharp ones, enough to amputate an arm. Unexpectedly dangerous objects, plus a part of her she hated people touching anyway, should have equalled alarm bells ringing so loudly she couldn't think.  
But they weren't. It didn't sting, or make her go woozy, or anything of the kind. It just lulled her with its slow, gentle movements on easily stimulated skin. 

Before she could clear her throat to let him know what he was doing, it stopped dead. With a gasp, he jerked away from her. Probably getting the wrong idea. "[Oh no - Dolly, I'm sorry, I forgot, I wasn't thinki- we were meant to--!]"  
"[Ssh. You're fine.]" It came out quiet, as though in a dream.  
"[No, Dolly, look behin--]"  
"[Really, you're okay. That. That actually felt quite nice,]" she ended up saying, sincerely. "[Thank you.]" 

"[I'm glad you two are enjoying yourselves.]"

This new speaker, with a stone cold undercut, returned her with a jump to the world that had begun to fall away. It took a bit for her to place it, startlingly close as it was, but she got her answer as soon as she spun around.  
Dr Wood, nemesis, faced them both on their plane, hood unchanged from the day's turning of the tides.

"Crap! [He's found us!]" She was stating the obvious in the onslaught of fright that mired her being. Shit, she knew she'd come out here for a reason, and yet she'd just let him slip through the cracks! _No c'mon no time for 'at, think on yer feet, what'd you set up?_ "[Kroko, quick, get the others into defence stance.]"  
"[But you'll get hurt first!]"  
"[Don't worry, sweetie, I can handle him, just go,]" she ordered. Another flare of lights, another slip of the tongue for her other sides to mock her for, but later, when they had more time. At the moment, he was fleeing through the door's letterbox and the raven broke off her view, roughly pinning her to the window by her neck hard enough to make her head spin.

"Fine priorities as always, Dolly. Do you truly believe a 'defence stance' will be enough to save you?" he seethed at her, his alienating steel gaze boring into her own. "I doubt it will, after the damage you and your, how did you word it, lackeys have done to mine."  
Oh hell, she'd been right. He was **pissed**. Against better judgement, she tried to spit out a defiance: "Heh, c-cannae think what ya mean."

He let her go after that, but she didn't hail as she tumbled to the floor, perhaps because the fog of static was getting in the way. From her floorward angle, she saw the feet, claws, pads, of others climbing up and gathering, none of which had met her for the big item handout.  
"I had almost forty followers twelve hours ago. Almost. Forty. Do you have _any idea_ how hard I worked to get that many under my wing?" (She part-scoffed under her breath.) "How much drafting, wording, re-wording, I had to do to prepare for tonight's mass recruitment, only for it to be thrown back in my face? I did not bring myself up from the bottom so you could sabotage me now."  
"Ya didne bring yerself up at all!" said Dolly as she managed to get up. "Ya just told 'em a pack ay lies an' hoped they'd carry you."  
"No, I told them what they could perceive as the truth, what would have been without your input."  
"Same difference! But if you're lookin' for a fight, we're already prepared. There's no way we're gonna let ye get to Lilo!" Which, as long as they were stuck out and in here, wasn't technically inaccurate.

Instead of rebuking her, in either language, he simply looked at some of those behind him, in front, and made a gesture towards her. In tandem, they sprang forward, the rat and bat and dogs all aimed at--  
Dogs - teeth - no no no no, not here not now! For a moment the crackling around her turned it all white, _stop it stop you've dealt wi' Lyall ye can deal wi' this Lyall's bigger than them,_ but she could still feel their sticky furry hands all over her, pulling her down, pinning her, securing her, still.

"Now why on earth," he said when she could see again, calmer by half a measure, "would I be after Lilo?"

What? He made the plan, didn't he? She'd thought that blatant. Why **wouldn't** Lilo be the one? She tried to yank one of her arms free, but it wasn't happening.  
"Lilo isn't the self-proclaimed leader of this... group. Lilo, last I saw him, wouldn't have the capacity to send others out in his stead while he hid away, avoiding responsibility. Lilo is of little importance. If I, say, brought him into the Association for intensive care, perhaps you'd try to get him back, but his absence wouldn't pull you all apart and, by extension, to me."  
More stretching of her blackened limbs, grip tighter the more she struggled, denial blaring now where it had not before. She was trapped, the boys were showing no signs of coming, he thought she was the one behind it all, oh god oh god oh god...  
"Actually, no. That's what I _could_ do to you. But again, you did humiliate me in front of all those toys. It'd be easier, and a lot more satisfying, if we were to make you suffer first. Make you _rue_ the day you crossed Leader Helfgott Wood." And he said that last part in a snarl to echo her own, the end of one wing bunched into the other. Not a good sign.

"Dornt ya dare! I'll - I'll burn ya up!" she bluffed to him, to those aimed at her. "[All of you, I'll set you on fire if you try it!]"  
"Given what I know, that seems unlikely right about now. But I'm not as stubborn as you. I'll give you one minute to prove me wrong."

Now that she was shoved into her own corner, her bravado faded. In order for fire to happen, she had to be angry, not scared stupid. How on earth did she make herself what was an involuntary state for her half the time?

She pulled so hard against their hold that it hurt; how dare it hurt when she was trying to escape? It had the opposite effect, sending chills all along her. He waited.  
She dwelled on the other pain, that on the inside, stretched by the uncomfortable position; how dare her own body work against her? Nothing in particular changed. He waited.  
She searched for some kind of clue that the others were ready to bust out and help her, but only found Lilo's blocks in a pile outside the door, **without** Lilo, or anyone to use them; how dare probably-Sly screw that over? All that did was make the air slightly hotter, not catch it alight. He waited.  
She pleaded for the group to find another way out soon, there _had_ to be one; how dare they just faff about inside while she was like this? A shower of jagged tingles proved that this was increasing the wrong emotion entirely.

"Your time is up."  
"Wait no no I - " _Think of something think of something think of something_ \- "[It's an electrical fire!]"

The instant that he heard it, dropped his arms, stared at her incredulously, she knew she'd said something incredibly idiotic. She'd never even seen one of those, let alone been on one. But some of these toys, they might not have seen her before. They could have been fooled. 

"[...An electrical fire.]"  
Or not.  
"Aye, [yeah. Like, it doesn't look like a real fire, because of, um, the gas. It's volatile. It's. No, really,]" she insisted when they continued just looking, "[I'm angry, I'm on fire.] Grr grr?"

"... [Do your worst, Healees.]"  
As one, everyone came for her, nails and mouths bared, swarming, pushing, and her eyes clamped shut, her body tense. She'd messed up, twice, so often, she was so so doomed, she couldn't save herself...

But instead of the expected agony, at the last second she felt an opening, an odd floating, her stomach swerving and pulling itself up and out, tearing her free from the four grasps around her but twisting her upside down, backed all the while by growling, barking, so loud it grated, so fierce it numbed almost worse than the threat of destruction.  
Being hurtled forward and into something flung everything back, just in time to see a familiar dangerous wolf's paw swipe the raven across and up - no, down - onto the cold pavement below. "[What's that?!]" she could hear some of his followers crying as he fell. "[No one told us about that!]" She averted her sight and hearing, found a splayed-open brown stomach for an umbrella, and she knew, though not with relief but surprise.  
'That' was Lyall. 

Ze charged again, along the thin gloss surface, bowling down all ze could that got in zer way; at least one of the less-friendly dogs was trampled underfoot. A stop, a rough shake that threw them both off balance, and then she could see the side window, the other three behind it, held back by whoever it was Lyall had just knocked down. A wave of shadows leapt onto zer, both of them, it all turned into lines and blurs again as ze bellowed and scratched and escaped, however that was possible. In the instant of calm ze jerked zer legs back, causing a shatter to overtake it all, shards of glass collecting at their feet. Now Lilo and Sly and Kroko could get through, the snake gingerly but rapidly buzzing between everyone, sweeping some of them off, and the hippo pulsing the backs of his blocks together, several times, to blast back the remainders and shift the floor underneath them both.  
Wood tried to climb back up somewhere in the middle, but nothing was getting past her other half. Ze bounded forth, grabbed him by some part of him and pulled him up to face zer, yelling something that everyone else was blocking out, though she picked up "[touch Dolly again and you're in for a]" blank blank. It didn't matter, for he was chucked off immediately after, and as quickly as the invasion had begun, the sixteen forms that had led him here were retreating into the far horizon, Kroko skimming the ground to make sure they weren't coming back. 

"[Yeah, you'd better run, you little shit!]" ze crowed after him as everything calmed down. "[No one pulls that crap on our crew and gets away with - with...]" The legs surrounding her began to shake. "[Ugh. Must have taken more of a roughin' than I thought. Lemme just...]"  
Before ze could move anymore, though, ze fell, flat, right on top of her.

"Ow. Easy, Lyall. I'm still here." She didn't get a reply for that, so she just edged her way gradually out from underneath, keeping an eye on zer prone form, even zer tail still. On the way up, what had just happened sunk deeper into her mind, now that the pace had slowed again, now that everyone else was gone.  
Had Lyall really just... after everything she had...?

"...Sorry, Doll," panted the wolf. "Hah. Guess I forgot super strength don't mean invulnerable."  
"No, dornt, Lyall. You. Ya just saved my life," she said, falteringly. "Dornt say sorry for 'at."  
"Yeah, I did. Anyone'd do that if they were me. It's like I said before: protecting you's part of the Lyall package." 

There was nothing but recovery for a blissfully heating minute. Of the one that had just fought to save the ungrateful; of the one coming to terms with what had been a long, long day. By the time she could tell ze was feeling slightly better, sturdier than before, she'd already decided (with some arguing) to give zer the simple thing ze'd asked for.

"Lyall?"  
"Uh-huh?"  
"Thanks. Y'ken, for gettin' me outta there. And. And thanks for helpin' with carryin' the stuff, an' thanks for the help wi' breakin' back in the other day and for puttin' up with me and for provin' I have less of a reason to be scared of this specific dug. As scared. Per se," she rushed out.

If ze hadn't been perked up before, ze sure was now; zer tics were creeping back in, the wagging, the less threatening grin. "You're welcome. And thanks for saying all of that. It means a lot."  
"Yeah. Took a lot to get it oot, gotta admit. Ya need me to do anythin'?"  
"...Welllllll, now that you mention it..." Was that a hint of slyness in zer sidelong glance? "That thing you were yakking about before's starting to bug me too. You wanna try rooting between our zips and see what the problem is?"

Oh, that. With all the excitement, she'd almost forgotten about it. Buoyed by permission, her arms, free to use now, darted into the cranny separating wolf and sheep. No, now that she was looking for it, she couldn't feel what was causing the damn thing; with her luck, it'd probably fixed itself. 

Then, jarringly, a bundle. Something other than their shared skin, rougher, bunched together. More feeling around found a long tube poking out of it, thinner, feeling like... plastic?  
She grabbed onto whatever they were with both hooves and shifted them around, trying to get them free. With a pop, they did, and she found herself in possession of - and this set her heart aflutter - two pale blue knitting needles, tied together with red and orange wool.

She'd been staring at them, wide-eyed, testing the coarseness of the coloured string and trying to find its ends, when Lyall spoke up again. "Surprise."  
"...Oh my god. We'd - ye - how'd ya ken - ?"  
"I didn't," ze answered the unfinished question. "It just kind of sang to me, if that makes sense. I found it in the pile we took with, but whosever it was never came to get it back, so I figured - well, you can guess.

"...Doll? You do like it, right?" pushed Lyall when she hadn't been able to speak for a bit, caught up in the wild twists and turns of the woven sunset, in the texture... in an idea.  
"Course I do. I love it. Ya dornt mind the colours yerself?"  
"Um. I could take them or leave them, I guess. Why'd you ask?"

"Because," she said, tying the tip she'd managed to track down onto one of the needle nubs, "I hink we'd both look pretty good in a nice pair of socks."


End file.
